


Off the Deep End

by eilinenennustus



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Cheating, Coming Out, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Press and Tabloids, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2020-06-03 08:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19459762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eilinenennustus/pseuds/eilinenennustus
Summary: Something happens at the after party of the Ballon d’Or 2014 that makes Cristiano Ronaldo’s well-structured life spiral way out of control. His five-year relationship with Irina Shayk is falling apart as he slowly starts to notice his increasing attraction to his worst rival, Lionel Messi, who has a family and steady relationship of his own. The web of secrets, lies and jealousy eventually lead to a dead-end, making it impossible to carry on without making some difficult decisions.





	1. The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Cristiano Ronaldo - Messi fan fiction story and English isn't my mother tongue so excuse me for that. Hope you still enjoy!

**THE NIGHT BEFORE  
** _Sunday 11th January 2015_

“I was talking to you, Cristiano Ronaldo”, Irina Shayk said, the frustration evident in her voice.

Cristiano – her boyfriend of five years – didn’t even look at her: his eyes were glued to the tv screen, which was showing some match between Barça and Atlético. He didn’t look happy, though: Barcelona was winning the game. His four-year-old son Cristiano Ronaldo Jr., however, was enjoying himself and paid even less attention to Irina than his father.

“Do you want me to come with you to the gala or not?”

“Mm… what would you wear then?” Cristiano asked half-heartedly.

Irina sighed and walked to the cupboard. She pulled out a beautiful red dress with an open back and sequins, one of her favorites. Cristiano took a quick look at it and shook his head.

“No way, too revealing.”

“What on earth am I supposed to wear to please Mr. CR7 then? A bag of potatoes? Or would that still be too eye-catching?”

“Shh… “, Cristiano lifted a finger to his lips. Lionel Messi had the ball. ‘Of course’, Irina thought bitterly. She was always going to come second to Lionel Messi, when it came to catching Cristiano’s interest. It was all the more sad considering he didn’t like the Argentine football star very much.

She stifled a laugh, when Messi fell over. Cristiano squinted a little. But in less than a split second Messi was back on his feet, kicked the ball again… and to Irina’s dismay somehow managed to score.

“Wow! _Gooooooaaaal!_ ” Cristiano Ronaldo Jr. yelled, tugging the sleeve of his father’s bathrobe. “Did you see that, papa? Messi is the best!”

“Not bad”, Cristiano had to admit. He was clearly deep in thought, an unreadable expression on his face. “You’re going to meet him tomorrow.”

Cristiano Ronaldo Jr.’s eyes lit up. He turned to gape at his father.

“Messi? For real?”

“Yes, for real.”

“Like for Real Madrid real?” Cristiano Ronaldo Jr. giggled at his own joke. Cristiano grinned and bent down to tickle him.

Irina felt tears pricking her eyes as she watched her boyfriend and his son play and have fun like she and her stupid dress didn’t exist. She felt so lonely and numb and out of place. They didn’t need her. Cristiano especially didn’t need her.

Feeling utterly defeated Irina retreated from the room and knew right then and there that she was definitely not going to attend that stupid Ballon d’Or gala of his.


	2. Unexpected Compliments

**UNEXPECTED COMPLIMENTS  
** _Monday 12th January 2015_

Leo Messi hurried into the backstage area of FIFA Ballon d’Or gala 2014, his spouse Antonella following right on his heels. He was a little bit breathless about all the formalities they had to go through just to get there.

When he entered the room there was immediately some happy faces greeting him at the doorway and he racked his brain, trying to figure out whether he was supposed to know the faces or not.

“Lionel Messi is here, go greet him.”

Leo startled a little. That was a voice he would recognize anywhere. He turned his head and his face lit up with a smile, when he saw an adorable, dark-haired little boy ogling him with big brown eyes. He greeted the boy, but the boy was too shy to answer.

“He watches a video on the internet of all of us, but he talks only about you”, the familiar voice went on, chuckling.

Leo felt his cheeks heat up at the surprising compliment. Finally, he raised his eyes to meet Cristiano Ronaldo’s. The other man was staring at him intently. Leo couldn’t help but notice how annoyingly handsome and unapologetically self-confident Cristiano looked in his perfectly fitting custom tailored suit, sitting comfortably on a couch next to a woman that could be his mother.

It turned out to be his mother, when Leo was introduced to her.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Messi”, Cristiano said, shaking hands with Antonella, deliberately ignoring the fact they weren’t married yet. “My other half couldn’t unfortunately make it tonight.”

“How come?” Leo inquired. Cristiano frowned and waved his hand dismissively.

Leo was trying to come up with something clever to lighten up the mood, when he was suddenly attacked by a very energetic young Brazilian and his slightly-less-manic Uruguayan friend.

“Messi! Messi! Messi!” Neymar chanted mockingly, earning a stern look from Leo. “I have to apologize, Mr. Ronaldo, but I think I finally got my hands on the Golden Ball.”

Neymar tightened his grip around Leo’s head. Cristiano Ronaldo Jr. laughed wholeheartedly at the wrestling session. After a while Neymar and Suárez slipped back into their more formal mode and paid their respects to Cristiano and his family.

“I think we better go soon”, Antonella said a tinge of worry apparent in her voice. “We’re going to be late.”

“Don’t worry, dear, I’m pretty sure they won’t start without me… I mean us”, Cristiano cut her off. “Nice game yesterday, by the way. For all three of you.”

Cristiano winked at the three Barcelona players, who were left dumbstruck by the fact that the Read Madrid striker had apparently been watching their victorious game from the night before - and was considerate enough to comment on it.

“He’s nicer than I thought”, Suárez stated as soon as he got his voice back. “Who would have thought.”

Leo quietly agreed and watched as the tall Portuguese quickly walked on without looking back, proudly holding the hand of his son.


	3. The After Party

****

**THE AFTER PARTY  
** _Later that night_

No one had a bigger smile on their face than Cristiano Ronaldo that night. He won the Golden Ball. He won it and he damn sure deserved it: he worked so hard for the past year. It felt _so_ good to see the almighty Lionel Messi licking his lips, clearly disappointed with the result.

When the gala ended most of the guests – including Cristiano - left the Congress House for an after party held a few kilometers away at a luxurious mansion owned by some Swiss millionaire. The place was spectacular: the floors and walls were covered with dark marble tiles, the decor was modern with a hint of gold and velvet here and there and there was a big heated terrace which – despite of the chilly January weather – was quite popular among the guests.

Cristiano was sitting at the terrace in the company of random footballer players and couches, sipping ice tea. Cristiano Ronaldo Jr. had gone home with his grandmother so Cristiano was free for the night.

“It’s such a shame you don’t drink, Ronaldo”, Manuel Neuer remarked, taking a big gulp of his Czech beer. “I’d love to see you drunk.”

“Oh really?” Cristiano laughed. “Who knows, maybe I’ll surprise you.”

Neuer shoot him a lopsided smile.

“Nah, why bother! I have seen it before: a man doesn’t like to drink, then he wants to have a taste, he takes a little, he takes a little more... and, in the end, he just can’t stop and everything goes _puff_!”

Everyone at the table laughed at Neuer’s vivid vocal performance. Cristiano noticed he was running out of ice tea.

“I have to go get some more, can you please keep your eye on this?” he asked Neuer and pointed at the Golden Ball trophy. Neuer – who was the second runner-up for the award - rolled his eyes and patted Cristiano’s back.

“Burn, burn…” he joked, but nevertheless promised to take very good care of the statue.

* * *

Cristiano Ronaldo didn’t really like to drink. But for some reason today he decided to throw the caution to the wind and took a glass of red wine. He didn’t want people to notice, though, and retired into the garden on the opposite side of the mansion to enjoy his drink. In the middle of the garden there was a beautiful fountain and he decided to go there to have a closer look.

He stopped briefly, when he spotted someone sitting by the fountain. It was a man wearing a shiny wine red suit, slouching and spinning a football between his index fingers.

_Lionel Messi._

Leo raised his head and forced a smile on his face.

“Hi.”

“Hi”, Cristiano answered. It was quite clear to him that Leo wanted to be left alone, but he couldn’t resist the chance to talk one on one with his biggest rival. “Can I sit here for a while?”

“Go ahead”, Leo replied. “The best party is somewhere else, though.”

Cristiano chuckled and sat down next to the other man. He took a long gulp of his wine. Leo looked at him incredulously.

“I thought I read somewhere that you don’t drink at all.”

Leo put the ball down and reached for his own glass of wine.

“I guess the exception proves the rule.”

“Seems like it. Of course you have a pretty good reason to drink after all. So do I”, Leo continued and drank again. “I hate to lose.”

“So do I”, Cristiano repeated and Leo gave him a sad smile. Cristiano didn’t feel like a winner anymore. He knew what Leo was feeling. Despite of everything he had achieved, the pressure and drive to be the best was just so overwhelming it overshadowed anything else. You had to be the best every single time. Anything less was a failure.

“Where’s Mrs. Messi by the way?” Cristiano asked suddenly, trying to change the topic.

“She went back to the hotel already. She knows that I need some time on my own now, she’s such a great woman.”

For some reason Cristiano felt an uncomfortable shift in his chest. Maybe it was the wine.

Suddenly he was very aware of how close he was sitting to Leo, their legs touching. He sneaked a look at the other man. Leo looked calm, almost stoic. There was a deep furrow between his brows and Cristiano realized he had never really thought of Lionel Messi as a person – as Leo. But as soon as this thought came to him he pushed it out of his mind. What was he thinking even?

He gave Leo's thigh a pat, drank some more wine, grabbed the ball and stood up.

“Well, are you going to mope all night or would you like to to spar with the player of the year?” he challenged and Leo rolled his eyes.

But then he laughed.

“Why not.”

They moved to a little field next to the fountain and stood facing each other. Cristiano could tell Leo had been drinking: he was swaying a little from side to side.

Leo started. He dribbled the ball closer to Cristiano, then fooled him with a little feint to his left and dodged him easily. Cristiano let out a displeased grunt and flicked an invisible speck of dust from his shoulder as Leo passed the ball to him.

It was Cristiano’s turn now. He took a few long strides towards Leo, trying to intimidate him a little. When he got close he made several quick stepovers, but somehow Leo managed to give the ball a little kick and Cristiano lost the control of it.

They continued like this for a while, each trying to trick the other and Cristiano totally lost the track of time. He didn’t remember the last time he had had this much fun. It was exciting to see Leo Messi in his element: his feet were quick as lightning and the fact that they both were wearing suits and dress shoes only added to the thrill of the moment.

Then at one point, when Leo once more had almost succeeded in his attempt, Cristiano stuck out his foot, tripped him and sent them both tumbling to the ground, Cristiano landing on top of Leo.

The time stopped right then and there.

It was like a dream. Cristiano first saw Leo laugh, then turn serious. He couldn't hear anything, but his heart racing in his ears. He felt the adrenaline rush in his veins and he must have raised his hand and brought it to Leo’s face, because he could feel his fingers tracing Leo’s jawline like they were searching for something.

He was suddenly scared of how much he just wanted to get closer to the other man, to feel him up... to _kiss_ him.

“Um, what are you doing?” Leo asked, his voice coming from a far distance. Cristiano, who realized his eyes were fixated on Leo’s lips, blinked, looked him in the eye and saw there a lot of questions.

Then the spell broke. Leo pushed him away, got up to his feet and cleaned his clothes. When he was ready, he shot a look of disbelief at Cristiano.

“I think you’ve drunk enough for tonight. Please take some water next”, he stated, excused himself and left.

Cristiano hid his face into his palms when he listened to the receding footsteps, the cold wind blowing on his back.

‘What the hell did just happen?’ he finally whispered to himself, desperate to believe it was just a dream.


	4. It's Over Now

**IT'S OVER NOW  
** _15th January 2015_

The clock was ticking. Irina heard the key turn in the lock. She could hear some loud bangs coming from the hallway and then something was thrown at her.

A Daily Mail magazine.

“Read it”, Cristiano said in a commanding voice. “Page 4.”

Irina opened the paper and immediately understood, where the problem was.

**_Irina Shayk was 'too busy' to join Cristiano Ronaldo at Ballon d'Or, insist PR company as talk of split with Real Madrid star swells_ **

_Irina Shayk missed the Ballon d'Or to spark rumours the couple had split_  
_The Russian model also unfollowed the Real Madrid star on Twitter_  
_Her PR company said work made her unavailable to attend the ceremony_  
_Cristiano Ronaldo picked up his third Ballon d'Or on Monday_  
_READ: Has Ronaldo split with girlfriend Irina Shayk?_

And so on. Irina sighed. The same shit as always. Although – she had to admit – a part of her felt a tingle of excitement. Finally, _finally_ she could make Cristiano taste his own medicine. Revenge was sweet.

“Aren’t you going to apologize?” Cristiano snapped, clearly unpleased with her lack of reaction.

“Apologize for what, Cris?” Irina asked back, angry at his selfishness. “Oh dear, has my absence left a little stain on the spotless public image of Cristiano Ronaldo the Great? I’m so sorry that the tabloids are beginning to figure out that I’m not one of your puppets anymore. Besides, you didn’t even want me there.”

Cristiano ripped the paper from her hands, tore it into pieces and littered them all over the floor.

“I did want you there, you ungrateful bitch. After all I’ve done to you –“

“After all you’ve done to _me?_ ” Irina interrupted, now furious. She jumped up and clenched her fists, fighting the urge to drive them into his face. “Let’s see what you’ve done to me. First of all, you sent texts behind my back to all of those gold digging whores around the world. Then you blamed me for invading your privacy, when I checked your phone and found out. Throughout this shit relationship you’ve made me feel like I am the most unwanted and ugly fucking girl on the planet. That’s what you’ve done to me, thanks a lot.”

Cristiano didn’t know what to say. Irina could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to come up with something to insult her back.

“I bought you a car”, he finally spat out. “I bought you a boat, I let you move in here. And what can I do if you treat me as warmly as an ice cube? There’s plenty more fish in the sea.”

“Is there?” Irina sneered. “I guess you had a nice fishing trip in Switzerland then. How _pathetic_ of you. I could even bet you tried to bed Lionel Messi’s girlfriend just to find out, if she would give it to you. That’s how low you are.”

Cristiano froze and Irina caught a flash of panic in his eyes, before he hid it behind his indifferent façade. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach: she had just hit the jackpot.

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?” Cristiano yelled and grabbed her shoulders. “I didn’t do it!”

“Yes you did. You did something. I don’t even care, Cris. Fuck this shit, I’m leaving.”

And with those words she pushed Cristiano roughly away from her and started walking away. Cristiano tried to pull her back but she shook him off.

“Don’t touch me, idiot.”

“You can’t just leave” Cristiano shouted.

“Oh yes I can! I’m fucking full of this shit, in fact I should have done this ages ago. Get off me.”

Cristiano had managed to grab her by the wrist and wouldn’t let go. She cried out in anger, fought herself free and gave a kick on his stomach when he tried to reach for her.

“Don’t you ever dare to touch me again. It’s over, Cristiano. Fuck you.”.

With those words she took her handbag, walked out of the front door and slammed it shut behind her.


	5. Invitation

**INVITATION**  
_Friday 22th January 2015_

After another Friday training session for the Barcelona team there was a lot of hustle and bustle in the locker room: everyone was either changing their clothes, taking shower or cleaning cleats. Leo had just taken his shirt off, when Neymar sneaked to his side in just his boxers to show a picture of a very beautiful girl from his phone.

“What do you think?” he asked smugly. “Her name is Melissa. I’m taking her out tonight.”

“A pretty name, Melissa”, Leo replied in approval and wrinkled his nose as he smelled his armpit. “But weren’t you dating Liz again?”

Neymar rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like we’re married, Leo.”

“I guess not”, Leo mumbled and went to take a shower.

When he returned to the locker room, he could hear his phone beeping. Neymar was already fully clothed and goofing around with Luis, trying to make him mad by calling him names. Some of them were pretty witty and Leo could see Luis getting a little bit worked up already, throwing a towel in the direction of the young Brazilian. It landed accidentally on Iniesta, who cursed and threw it back at him. Leo laughed and unlocked his phone to see, who had texted him. He frowned, not recognizing the number, but opened the message anyways.

**_CRISTIANO RONALDO DOS SANTOS AVEIRO TURNS 30_ **

_….and wouldn’t you just love to be there, when it happens? Exactly._

_Don’t miss the opportunity:_  
_You and your up to four friends are most welcome to take part in_  
_the greatest birthday party the world has ever seen. So - be there._

 _Time: 7th February, 2015, from 9 pm onwards_  
_ Place: Restaurante Zalacaín, Madrid_  
_ What else: Reply this message to confirm your attendance._  
_Please name also your companions so they can be added to the guest list._

Leo couldn’t believe his eyes. He read the text over and over again, still not quite comprehending, what it meant. Cristiano Ronaldo wanted _him_ – of all people - to attend his birthday party. They weren’t even friends or anything.

A memory rushed into his mind of himself and Ronaldo, sitting by a fountain drinking wine. Chatting and playing football drunk in dress shoes. Falling over and then a brief moment Leo couldn’t quite get his head around: Ronaldo looking at him in a way that made him feel uncomfortable in his skin and his stomach flutter a bit. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that there was something akin to _longing_ in his eyes.

Leo chewed on his upper lip. ‘I must be going crazy’, he thought to himself. ‘Why else would I be thinking that he wanted to…’

“Did your washing machine flood your house or what’s wrong?”

Luis’ question snapped Leo out of his thoughts: he realized he must have been looking awfully absent for the last few minutes. Quickly, he shook his head and handed his phone over to Luis and Neymar. Neymar glanced at the first couple of lines of it and then let out a high-pitched squeal.

“What the fuck? Cristiano Ronaldo? Why? Well I’m in”, Neymar hurried to say. “But when the heck have you become such good friends with him?”

“I haven’t and that’s what is bothering me”, Leo admitted and ran a hand though his still damp hair.

“Anyways, you have to go, I want to know what he’s up to. Are you coming too, Luis?”

Luis nodded.

“It’s the greatest birthday party the world has ever seen, who the hell would want to skip that?”


	6. Si No Te Enamoras

**SI NO TE ENAMORAS** **  
**_Saturday 7th February 2015_

Leo was quite nervous, when the taxi pulled up at the restaurant Zalacaín in Madrid. He didn’t exactly know, what to expect. He glanced at Luis, who gave him a thumbs up and then the trio exited the car and started to walk quickly toward the entrance to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

But the paparazzi wouldn’t be paparazzi had they not the instinct of hungry shark and - sooner than the Barcelona stars could say ‘World Cup’ - they had already been encircled by them.

“Messi, Messi, why are you celebrating Cristiano Ronaldo’s birthday, why are you here? Are you friends? Are you rivals? Do you hate him? What do you think of him? Is he better than you?”

“Messi, una foto por favor! Solo una foto!”

“Is Cristiano Ronaldo going to be transferred to Barça, is this why you’re here?”

It was an endless avalanche of stupid questions pouring over them.

“Get the fuck off my face or I’ll bite yours off!” Luis yelled and indeed managed to scare off a few of them so that they could make it inside.

The restaurant was beautiful and decorated all over with golden ribbons and chandeliers, balloons, pennons, flowers and blue spotlights. There was a lot of well-dressed guests strolling around holding wine glasses and getting acquainted with each other. A waiter greeted them heartily and they picked up glasses of champagne from the tray she was holding.

“Not bad”, Luis said approvingly after tasting the wine. “How old were you again, Neymar, all you allowed to drink this?”

Neymar shot a dirty look at him.

“Shut up.”

Then he suddenly froze. Leo turned around to see, what the problem was and grimaced inwardly, when he spotted an all-too-familiar figure grinning at them maliciously.

“Look what the cat dragged in”, Pepe sneered, quickly dispelling any hope of having a sophisticated exchange of words. “I didn’t know there was going to be a Catalonian clown show too. I’d love to see your skills, Neymar, but you’d need a pool for that.”

“Oh, shut it Pepe. That’s enough.”

Marcelo – who was standing right next to Pepe – gave him a jab with his elbow, but couldn’t resist a little grin forming on his face.

“Ignore him”, Leo whispered to Neymar’s ear. “He’s just trying to get under our skin.”

“It’s such a great thing you’ve some dick in your personality, it must feel awful to miss one in your pants”, Luis retorted and now it was Neymar’s and Leo’s turn to crack up. Pepe’s mouth tightened into a line. He was about to launch himself at the Uruguayan and let him have it, but Sergio Ramos (!) grabbed him and held him back.

“Don’t be an idiot, Pepe. Be civil just once.”

“That guy is an animal”, Neymar said and rolled his eyes, when they had walked out of earshot. “Why he is still allowed to exercise the fine art of football, beats me.”

“Yeah, me too. But isn’t that just priceless though”, Luis laughed, tears in his eyes. “Sergio Ramos telling someone to calm the fuck down! I just wish I had caught that on tape.”

* * *

They proceeded further into the restaurant and under the largest chandelier of the whole place came across with the birthday boy himself. Cristiano Ronaldo was looking nothing short of perfect of course: his hair was arranged in flawless curls and he was wearing a stylish short-sleeved black dress shirt that hugged his muscular arms, shoulders and chest. When he smiled his white teeth made a beautiful contrast to his glowing tanned skin.

By his side he had a stunningly beautiful brunette girl, who giggled, when he bent over to whisper something in her ear. She was clearly enjoying immensely all the attention and compliments she was receiving.

Neymar glanced at them and chuckled a little.

“Well, he didn’t stay single for too long.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you heard? He and Irina Shayk broke up. That’s why he’s been playing like crap lately. Not that I mind, of course.”

“Oh, I see.”

Leo’s mouth twisted as he watched Cristiano and the girl talk. Cristiano’s eyes were flirty and playful and he didn’t look exactly heartbroken to say the least. Also, if Leo had just lost 4–0 to Atlético _on this very date_ – like Cristiano had – he wouldn’t be out there having fun and celebrating, but rather sulking by himself in some dim corner, playing FIFA.

All of a sudden Cristiano snapped out of his romantic reverie and his eyes lit up.

“Messi! Neymar! Suárez! What a surprise!”

From the corner of his eye, Leo saw almost everyone around him turning to look at them curiously and he wished he could just fall through the floor.

“Congratulations”, he greeted and blushed a little.

To his relief, Luis jumped in to help him out.

“On behalf of the FC Barcelona team, we would like to corrupt our worst and dearest rival with this gift. Happy 30th birthday from all of us. Don’t get too cocky, though.”

Leo flashed him a grateful smile.

Cristiano took the present and opened it. It was a Barcelona shirt with his name, number 7 and autographs by all the players on the back. He let out a happy laugh.

“I love it. I hate it, but… I love it. Thanks!”

Then he smiled at Leo. There was something really endearing and genuine about his smile and Leo couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’ll never join Barça though. Only over my dead body. But I’ll make good money out of this on Amazon.”

They laughed. The brunette girl was pouting a little at being ignored. Cristiano soon picked up on this and hurried to introduce her.

“Uh, this is Valencia. Valencia – Lionel Messi, Neymar, Luis Suárez. You know who they are, right?”

They shook hands awkwardly and continued to talk for a while about Cristiano and Real Madrid’s game against Atlético (latter of which was clearly not a topic Cristiano wanted to dwell on). After some time, Cristiano decided it was time for him to give a speech and clapped his hands a few times. The restaurant fell silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you so much for coming to my 30th birthday party tonight, it means a lot to me. It has been a tough day for Real Madrid for sure, but let’s not let that kill the mood. In fact, I have someone here, who would like to get the party started. Let me introduce you – Kevin Roldan!”

Everyone started to clap their hands and cheer, when a small, sleek-looking man stepped on the stage. Leo was clapping, too, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea, who the artist was. He glanced at Neymar, who looked like he was about to have a stroke. ‘He must be famous then’, Leo thought and laughed in relief, when Luis made a funny face at him, clearly indicating he was just as clueless as himself.

The show started with some upbeat latin rhythms. Neymar quickly found himself a beautiful girl to dance with and Leo couldn’t but admire the way the Brazilian youngster moved with the music: it looked so easy and came natural to him. It wasn’t long, however, before he too found himself being dragged toward the dance floor by a rather determined (and tipsy) red-haired girl. He tried to refuse at first, but to no avail, and eventually he just gave in and followed her. Maybe Antonella wouldn’t mind that.

They danced together for some time, but gradually the girl began to make advances to him. She took his hand and put it on her hips.

“I like you”, she whispered in a breathy voice. “You’re a great player, better than him.”

“Better than Cristiano Ronaldo?” Leo asked amused. "No way."

“Yes. Besides, I don’t’ want to sleep with him, I want to sleep with you. You make me all _wet_.”

Quickly she was all over him, nibbling at his neck and pulling him into something resembling a hug. Leo decided it was time to call it off and pushed her gently away.

“I’m so sorry, I have a girlfriend”, he explained. She sighed in disappointment.

All of a sudden Leo got the feeling someone was watching him. He turned his head and startled when his eyes locked with Cristiano’s, who was leaning against the stage a few meters away, piercing him with his eyes. His expression was far from happy now: Leo could catch a flash of anger on his face, before he quickly diverted his gaze, when Valencia appeared from somewhere. She placed a sparkly golden hat on his head, giggled and pulled him into a sweet kiss.

* * *

Leo spotted Luis waving at him from a corner table and made his way there.

“Well, that was one horny girl, I thought you’d never get rid of her. Taste this”, he urged, pouring himself a glass of red wine. “I bet you’ll love it.”

“Is it from Argentina?”

Luis nodded, smiling sadly.

“Give me a glass then.”

A short silence ensued, until Luis broke it by letting out a deep breath.

“You know sometimes, sometimes I wonder, how the life would have turned out had I stayed in Uruguay, you know. Not that I regret anything, it’s been more than great, better than I could have ever imagined but… When you get older, you kind of start to think things like that. Do you know what I mean?”

Leo shrugged slowly.

“Maybe.”

“What if I still was a street sweeper, would I be happy then? What if I hadn’t met Sofia? What if I had stopped playing football altogether? What if I had become something else – say – a lawyer or a doctor? Do you ever think about that?”

“Do I think about what? You as a lawyer?”

“No”, Luis rolled his eyes. “Do you ever think, what could have been?”

Leo didn’t have time to answer or even think about the question, because suddenly the restaurant exploded in cheers and applause. Cristiano had climbed on the stage and stood next to the singer, ready to sing a song with him.

“This one is dedicated to me… and you”, Cristiano whispered into the microphone seductively, pointing between himself and the audience. “Happy birthday to me! _Si no te enamoras_.”

Leo closed his eyes when the first notes of the song rolled from the speakers. He instantly liked the song: it had a groovy, sexy rhythm that definitely put him in the mood. The sounds around him muted and he forgot about the bitter taste of Argentine wine burning his throat.

Also, Cristiano really wasn’t that bad of a singer.

 _"Sé que te sientes sola,_  
por eso buscas refugio en mi (tú y yo)  
_Y no lo vayas a tomar mal_  
_Que tan solo quiero algo sexual_  
_Solo si tú no te enamoras"_

At some point Leo opened his eyes. Cristiano and was leaning his head to the side, really putting his soul into the music. He was swaying and grinding his hips slowly to the beat and started to unbutton and lift up his shirt, little by little revealing his perfectly toned torso, earning cat calls from his audience.

Leo could feel color rush to his cheeks. To his horror, he couldn’t tear his eyes off the sight in front of him: it was alluring to watch, how Cristiano’s well-built muscles flexed from the slightest movement, how the light from the lamps and tiny beads of sweat glistened on his olive skin, how his lips moved to form the words… it was just plain beautiful.

 _"Si tú no te enamoras_  
_Podemos pasar un par de horas_  
_Y lo podemos repetir_  
_Siempre que te sientas sola…"_

Suddenly Cristiano’s eyes fluttered open and he looked straight at Leo. His lips curved into a satisfied smile, when he caught him blatantly staring. He winked at him and ran his hand proudly down his rock-hard abs, still keeping the eye contact with him and singing the song. Leo’s felt an electric jolt run through his body and his heart skipped a beat or two. He diverted his gaze and gulped. This couldn’t be happening. Not like this, not here.

He spun around on his heels and stumbled away across the restaurant, until he reached the bathroom.


	7. A Hot Mess

**A HOT** **MESS**

Leo slammed the bathroom door shut behind him and glanced at the mirror, taken aback by how flustered he looked. The eyes that looked back in the mirror were dark as coal and he was panting. He was embarrassed beyond belief to feel a hard bulge growing in his pants. He desperately tried to dispel the sensual image from his mind and refreshed himself with a splash of cool water on his face, watching how the water drops ran down his cheeks, creating paths.

Then he could hear the door crack open and someone enter.

It was Cristiano. Leo cursed in his mind.

“Ah, hello again, Leo” the Portuguese greeted. “Are you enjoying the party so far?”

“Yes, it’s great. Thank you. You sang really good. It’s a nice song, too.”

“Is it?” Cristiano narrowed his eyes. “Why would you run away then?”

Something about the tone of his voice made the hair on Leo’s neck stand up. He didn’t turn around, but watched in the mirror in disbelief, how Cristiano’s gaze first wandered to his face, then to his panting chest and finally settled at his aching crotch.

_Fuck._

Cristiano tilted his head and an ominous smirk spread across his face. Leo felt a drop in his stomach.

“Ah, so you liked it?”

“No, I mean… yes, I did”, Leo babbled. “However, I think I have to go now, we have a game tomorrow and I shouldn’t even be drinking, shouldn’t have come in the first place… I have to go find Neymar, I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“I think your little boyfriend can take care of himself”, Cristiano cut him short and closed the distance between them to stand right behind him. Leo could feel the heat radiating from his body. He couldn’t move a muscle. Everything seemed so unreal, like he was a character in a movie.

He watched in trance as Cristiano’s hand tentatively slid onto his shoulder, then down to his waist and stayed there. He closed his eyes again, feeling the sensation of Cristiano’s fingers playing with his waistband and let out a sigh. Then the taller man bent down a little so he could whisper in Leo’s ear.

“I’m glad you came to my party, Leo.”

His lips brushed the shell of Leo’s ear with each word, making him shiver. He smelt of a mixture of red wine and cologne. Leo nodded. It happened again: everything disappeared around him.

Cristiano’s lips traced down his jawline and – suddenly – he could feel them press against his own. His eyes widened and he pulled away out of shock. They looked at each other. Cristiano’s eyes were darkened with lust or anger or both and he was breathing heavily. His put his hands under Leo’s shirt and let out a groan, when he felt up the tense muscles in his back.

“Fuck this”, he panted and crashed their mouths together.

Leo’s brain shut down and he melted into the kiss, parting his lips as Cristiano’s hungry tongue probed into his mouth. His arms draped over Cristiano’s shoulders and he felt the pressure starting to build up in his groin. Cristiano drove him against the sink, kissing him vehemently, and before Leo could regain his balance, he felt the zipper of his pants being pulled down and a hand squeezing his throbbing package. Cristiano broke the kiss and locked eyes with him, as if asking for permission. Leo nodded weakly. Then the hand slid inside the boxers and grabbed the root of his cock, making him moan. This feeling alone almost threw him over the edge.

“This is not a good place… someone could just… come in” he tried to reason, but Cristiano wouldn’t listen. He was already stroking him with long, teasing, agonizing movements, carefully observing his facial expressions. Leo’s knees buckled in pleasure. And when Cristiano kissed him again, his whole body shook with emotion. He wanted more, he wanted everything…

And then – way too soon – a sense of bliss, when he came violently in his pants and all over Cristiano’s hand. He grunted and held onto the taller man for balance.

Cristiano pulled his hand out of his pants and suddenly it was like a chilly wall had risen between them. He stared at the hand, washed it in silence and took a paper towel to dry it off. Leo’s lips were still swollen from all the kissing and he touched them with his fingertips, trying to come in terms with what had happened. Meanwhile, Cristiano had finished cleaning himself.

“Well… I need something to drink”, he said.

And then he just left.

After the door closed, realization hit Leo hard. It felt like he was being strangled. ‘What the fuck did I just do?’ he asked himself over and over and finally literally banged his head into the wall a several times until he left his forehead resting against the cold tile.

_Antonella. His family._

How could he be so stupid, so selfish?

He crouched down onto the floor and sunk his head between his hands. The door opened again.

“Leo? Leo! Are you okay?”

It was Neymar. Leo wished he could just die from embarrassment. The younger man admired him a lot, wanted to be like him, he was his idol… and right now he was the lowest creature crawling on the surface of the earth.

“I’m fine”, he said, trying to suppress a sob. “I think I’m going home now.”

Neymar pulled him up and his eyes widened, when he saw his face.

“Look at you, you look like shit. Did someone just beat you up? Was it Pepe? What the fuck, Leo, you need to see a doctor….”

“No, I’m fine”, Leo snapped. Neymar fell silent. ”Just take me home.”


	8. Bad Valentine

**BAD VALENTINE  
** _Saturday 14th February 2015_

This whole week had been like a nightmare to Cristiano. The media had been relentless through the last few days, accusing him of not being loyal to Read Madrid, when he had decided to celebrate his birthday despite their horrible loss earlier the same evening. But come on! He had already invited a lot of people there and booked Kevin Roldan. What he was supposed to do then, call the whole thing off and sulk by himself in some dark corner?

Even more irritating was the way the tabloids raved about Messi, Neymar and Suárez coming to his birthday party. _Why not?_ He was by far the best football player in the word, of course he would be inviting all kinds of celebrities to his party, rivals or not. Also they never missed a chance to compare him to Messi, especially now that the Argentinian striker was on a roll and he was having a bad streak. He was still the best. He won the Ballon d’Or, not Messi. Eat that.

When Cristiano sprinted onto the pitch to face Deportivo, the audience was cheering and yelling at him and he felt at home. He shook off any negative thoughts. This was exactly, what he wanted and needed right now: to play football and forget about everything else.

It worked out quite well, until he messed up and wasted a goal.

The madridistas didn’t really care, but Deportivo fans started to chant something. It took Cristiano a while to realize, what they were hollering at him. Then he could hear it loud and clear and it was definitely not something he wanted to hear at that moment:

“ _Messi… Messi… Messi…._ ”

The cursed name echoed in his head until the final whistle.

* * *

When Cristiano got back to the locker room after the game, he collapsed onto the bench, took his shoes off and threw them at the wall. Real Madrid had won, but he still hadn’t managed to score and it started to grow on him.

“Cristiano!” Marcelo called for him and Cristiano raised his head questioningly. “Happy Valentine’s day, my friend! I have a card for you. I hope it will cheer you up, look!”

Marcelo slipped into his hand a self-made card featuring a heavily edited picture of him and the Real Madrid team. He was standing in the front holding a Louis Vuitton handbag and Lionel Messi’s face was sticking out of the open purse like he was his puppy dog. Marcelo had even put the dog face filter on Messi’s face. Underneath was written:

_Dear Cristiano: Always remember to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. Happy Valentine’s Day!_

“Oh my god… Great artwork Marcelo”, he said smiling wearily, rubbing his face. “I should stick to that advice.”

“I came up with the dog thing”, Pepe remarked from the other side of the room. “It seemed legit as a dog is a man’s best friend and the little flea is yours.”

“What? He’s not!” Cristiano snorted.

“Why would you invite him to your birthday party then? Even Fabio wasn’t there and Messi the Mickey Mouse was.”

“Fabio had other plans.”

“He did not, you just forgot to invite him, because you were too busy courting your GOAT-colleague.”

“Can we just stop talking about that motherfucker for a minute? I’m getting a headache.”

Marcelo’s eyes widened into the size of saucers.

“What did you just call him?”

“A motherfucker”, Cristiano stated angrily. “And I’ll call him that again.”

“Aww, did you two have a fall out then? That’s cute”, Pepe sneered mercilessly. “Do you need a tissue?”

“No, I need you to shut the fuck up”, Cristiano snapped, slung his bag over his shoulder and stormed out of the room.

* * *

It was late at night, when Cristiano finally arrived home. Junior was already sleeping. The nanny was there, but she left him alone after seeing his face.

Cristiano undressed and went straight into shower. When the warm water hit his face, he started to notice the familiar feeling of emptiness sneaking up on him. A lump in his throat was building up and slowly it turned into tears. With shaking hands, he shut off the shower, reached for his cell phone and slumped onto the floor to flip through his contacts.

When Irina’s name appeared on the screen, he sighed heavily. For five years, she had been the person he could trust with anything. She had always been there for him. He actually thought she would never leave him. And now – when he needed her more than ever – she was gone. For a brief moment he considered sending her a message just to ask how she was doing, but gave up the idea. He knew there would be no answer.

Slowly, he continued to browse through the list, until he found what he was looking for. A dull throbbing pain settled in the chest, when he stared at the name.

_Leo Messi._

Cristiano closed his eyes and let his mind wander off, indulging in every detail: how Leo tasted like, how he smelt like, how he looked. He could see Leo’s flustered face, his swollen lips and ruffled hair. Every single touch felt out of this world, like they were burned into his skin. And Leo’s eyes, his deep brown eyes that carried oceans of sadness and unexpressed emotions were right there in front of him. Those mysterious eyes, barricaded behind endless disappointments and fears. This was Leo, not Messi, and he wanted nothing more than to take that sadness away. But he couldn’t just do that. He was a coward.

A little bit reluctantly Cristiano pulled himself out of his day dream and forced his eyes open. It was time to have something else to think about. Quickly he chose a number and lifted the phone to his ear. It rang a few times and then the call was picked up.

“Hello, Valencia. It’s me, Cristiano. Have you plans for tonight or will you be my Valentine? I miss you so much, I really do.”


	9. Breaking News

**BREAKING NEWS  
** _Saturday 14th February 2015_

When it came to football, Leo was doing great: after the winter break he had scored twice as much as any other player in La Liga. Also, lately he had even started to get better along with Luis Enrique, which was a great relief considering, how much tension there had been between them.

When it came to his life outside football, however, things weren’t going as great.

It all came down to that birthday party. Leo had been thinking that over and over again, still not quite understanding, what went wrong. He had been somewhat drunk, yes, but that was not an excuse. Cristiano had seduced him and played with him, but he should have said no – especially knowing the Portuguese’s reputation as a playboy. Leo was just another trophy to him.

The worst thing was how he had alienated himself from Antonella. It was hard to look her in the eye and he felt sick thinking, what he had done to her. A tiny voice inside his head constantly nagged that he should tell her, but he didn’t know how. Had it been just some random girl at a bar, it would have been completely different, easier maybe. But Cristiano wasn’t just some random girl at a bar. He was a man – and not just any man.

Besides, Leo was not gay. He loved women, Antonella to be exact.

To deal with his guilt he decided to celebrate the Valentine’s Day with her by arranging a romantic evening for just the two of them, complete with fine food, flowers and candles. After eating he prepared a rose petal bath for them and Antonella loved it.

“I’m such a lucky girl”, she said beaming, slipping into the water. “You didn’t have to do all this though, I know you’ve a lot on your plate right now.”

“No, I wanted to. I want to spend time with you. And you do deserve all of this.”

“I love you, Leo.”

That stung a little.

”I love you too, Antonella.”

A long silence ensued, during which the little voice in Leo’s head activated again. _‘It’s time to tell her’_ , it said. _’Or for how long are you going to keep this up and lie to her face? She deserves better.’_

Leo rubbed his neck nervously.

“Do you want to have wine?”

“No thanks.”

”Okay.”

Another long silence. It felt like an eternity and Leo began to grow anxious. It couldn’t go on like this. He had to do it now… or never.

His heart was pounding faster than ever as he summoned every bit of his courage to open his mouth.

“Antonella”, he started in a hoarse voice. “I have to…”

“Leo, there’s something you should know”, Antonella blurted at the same time and Leo fell silent.

“What is it?”, he asked, bemused.

Antonella shifted uncomfortably.

”It’s that… I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.”

A flood of shock flew through Leo. His arms and mouth went numb. The world around him started to swirl and he grabbed the edge of the bathtub with both hands.

“Can you say that again?”

“I’m pregnant, Leo, I did the test a couple of days ago.”

Leo blinked, still trying to get his head around the news. _He was going to be father again._ He couldn’t believe it.

“Are you okay?” Antonella inquired, sounding worried. “Leo, say something!”

“But that’s… wonderful”, Leo said, when he finally got his tongue back. “In truth, that’s wonderful news.”

A big, relieved smile spread over Antonella’s face. The water in the bathtub and the rose petals spilled all over the floor as she threw herself into his arms, pressing her face against his chest.

“I was so afraid to tell you”, she spluttered. “I didn’t know how you would take it, it was a big surprise for me too. There had been some signs, but I had to be completely sure. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“Don’t be sorry, that’s… You don’t have to apologize for anything”, Leo reassured her and wiped a lock of wet hair out of her face. “Quite the contrary.”

Antonella raised her head to look at him and there were tears in her eyes. She looked so happy and vulnerable, like an angel. Only a monster would take that happiness from her and shatter her into a thousand tiny pieces. Leo at least couldn’t bring himself to do that. Instead, he just closed his eyes and pulled her closer, trying his best to calm down the storm that swirled inside him.

”You were going to say something earlier, what was it?” Antonella asked all of a sudden, making him startle.

Leo glanced at Antonella. She looked back at him questioningly. His smile faltered for a brief moment, but he knew this wasn’t the right time or place for him to drop the bomb. Not now that everything was so perfect and she was on the top of the world.

“It was nothing important”, he whispered quietly and kissed her temple.

* * *

Leo couldn’t sleep that night. His mind was racing like some engine gone wild. Thus, he got up, grabbed a ball and went outside to the football field.

The moon was high on the sky, shining bright like a diamond. Juggling with the football made him feel at ease: it was his escape from everything. His biggest fear was that some day it wouldn’t feel the same anymore, that he would lose this endless source of joy and inspiration forever. After losing the FIFA World Cup final last summer, he almost thought that day had come. It truly had brought him to the brink of giving up. But – somehow – he had managed to put that behind him. Losing was part of the game. You will never win, if you’re too scared to lose.

_He was going to be father again._

The thought popped into his mind out of nowhere. He sent the ball flying into the right top corner of the goal, following its flight with his eyes. Then he sat down on the ground and crossed his arms. He was happy, of course, but his happiness was heavily overshadowed by the happenings of the birthday party. If he just could talk with someone and get that off his chest.

But who could he talk to? Not Neymar, definitely not Luis. Not Kun. He couldn’t think of a single person, who he could trust with this secret without losing his face.

Absent-mindedly he took his cell phone out of his pocket, opened an incognito tab and searched for different websites. Eventually he found one that sounded promising: a Spanish website, where one could anonymously chat with people from all over the world just about everything. He hesitated for a moment before choosing a chat room for sexually confused young adults.

He chuckled, when he came up with a nickname for himself: **FOOTBALLFAN87** _._ Then he joined the room.

It didn’t take long, until his phone vibrated: he had got a private message from nickname **HASTALAVISTA**.

> **HASTALAVISTA:** Hi there! What’s your favorite team?

Leo smiled at the question and typed a reply:

> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Barça. And yours?
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** Heh, same. The best team in the world. Did you see the match on Wednesday then?
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Yes, kind of. It was a good game. Although – I must say – a bit sloppy performance from Messi, just one goal and one assist.

Leo couldn’t hold his laughter. Trolling was so much fun. Why hadn’t he done anything like this before?

> **HASTALAVISTA:** What, are you crazy??? He was fantastic! Can’t say the same about Neymar though, he missed that penalty too. I wonder, why Messi gave it to him.
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Just guessing, but maybe he wanted to encourage him or something? Neymar just had a bad day.
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** Hmm… could be. But that’s enough of that. Now tell me what brought you here?

So that was it then. Leo got serious and took a deep breath and wrote a long message to explain, what had happened. He carefully left out and changed some details, of course, as to not be recognized in any way. When the message was finished, he read it through a couple of times before sending it.

Waiting for a response, he bit his lip. It seemed to take forever, but eventually his phone beeped again.

> **HASTALAVISTA:** Wow. I don’t know what to say, man. Sounds really complicated, kids and everything.
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** It is.

A moment passed and Leo frowned. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. There was no way this random guy could help him to solve his problems, the whole situation was so messed up.

But before he could finish that thought, the phone vibrated once again:

> **HASTALAVISTA:** I have to ask…. do you like the guy?

The question caught Leo totally off the guard. Indeed, what did he think of Cristiano? First and foremost, he was his biggest rival, who – although he hated to admit it – he loved to play and compete against.

As a person, however, he was still a big mystery to Leo. He was really attractive for a man, of course, and that combined with his unfaltering self-confidence and endless talent on the pitch did make him very special in Leo’s eyes. Furthermore, he couldn’t deny that there was also something about his presence that made his every nerve tingle. But did he like him in _that_ way?

It was as if **HASTALAVISTA** had read his thoughts, though, because a few moments later he answered the question for him

> **HASTALAVISTA:** I think you do.

Leo stared at the screen and the blush spread down his neck, when he realized that was the truth.

> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** I guess you’re right. But that could never happen, not in a million years, even if I was single and didn’t have a family.
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** Why not?
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** It’s just… I would lose everything, my friends, my profession, my family, my religion… In truth, it doesn’t matter, if I like him or not. That night was the biggest mistake of my life.
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** Was it? Sounds like a lot of excuses to me.
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** It does not matter, period. Let’s talk about something else.
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** As you wish. But let me say this one thing: I know how it’s like to be afraid of losing everything. But in the end, it’s much worse to end up living a life thinking you never gave something a chance just because you were too afraid to try. Just be honest to yourself.
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Yep, I will.

After the last message Leo locked his phone and threw it on the grass. It wasn’t like **HASTALAVISTA** wasn’t telling the truth, but he definitely didn’t know his situation well enough to have a say about the matter. He had a family and everything he needed already. There was no reason for him to pine after Cristiano. It was just a little crush, nothing more.

The moon was still shining beautifully. Leo gazed at it for a moment, deeply in thought. Then he scrambled to his feet and headed back inside.


	10. El Clásico

**EL CLÁSICO  
** _Sunday 22nd March 2015_

_El Clásico._

It was the tenth time Leo had to use the bathroom before the game, but he had stopped counting already. For over a month, he had been expecting this day.

The atmosphere was definitely packed with excitement in the bright red and blue colored locker room of the Camp Nou. Neymar was adjusting his shin pads to his right and to his left Luis was tapping his foot nervously, irritating him a little.

To distract himself Leo checked his phone and saw that there was a new message from **HASTALAVISTA** (or Sergio, as that was his real name). They had had gradually become friends of sorts, chatting more or less ever since he joined the chat a month ago. Usually they just talked about life in general, work (to Leo’s slight horror, Sergio apparently worked as a journalist), family and friends and of course football. This time opening the message he already knew, what the topic would be.

> **HASTALAVISTA:** Hi, what’s up? It’s time for Elllll Clásicoooo! I can’t wait! Are you going to watch it?

Leo grinned. _If he only knew._

> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** You bet. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** Me neither. Damn! Messi and Ronaldo, the two best football players in the world playing against each other, gives me goosebumps every time.
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Yeah… or rather the two best football clubs in the world playing against each other.
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** That too. I only wish I could see it live. The tickets are crazy expensive though, for El Clásico at least. Maybe one day I’ll see a Barça game. One can always dream, heh.

Leo felt a sting in his heart at the comment, but he knew it was time for him to get back to business.

He shut down the phone and glanced at Neymar, who was finished pulling up his socks and was staring blankly in front of him, looking a bit pale. During the past few weeks or so the usually bubbly and cheerful Brazilian had for some reason become a mere shadow of his former self, looking more and more gloomy and unhappy with himself. Leo was really starting to get worried.

“Are you okay?” Leo asked quietly and put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, who flinched a little at the contact.

“Yeah”, Neymar replied quietly. “Let’s just hope I won’t screw up everything like I tend to do.”

“Hey, stop that”, Leo snapped and shook him by the shoulder. “Listen to me: you’re a great player, one of the best in the whole world. For real. You have to believe in yourself.”

Neymar let out a bitter laugh and shook his head.

“It’s easy for you to say. You _are_ the best. Compared to you I just…”

“Please, stop that! Never compare yourself with anyone. Look, I know you’ve had it hard lately, but you have to remember this”, he pointed at the tattoo on Neymar’s neck. “Everything will pass. Just don’t give up trying. I want to see a happy Neymar today, like the little boy who loves to score goals and have fun on the pitch. Okay?”

“Thanks, Leo. I’ll try my best”, Neymar muttered and to Leo’s relief mustered a little smile. Still, he had that haunting look to his eyes that Leo didn’t quite understand.

“Okay, off we go then!” Geri yelled from the other side of the room and clapped his hands. “Let’s go hunt some Real meat!”

* * *

Cristiano frowned. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous, when he walked down the player’s tunnel. From time to time he couldn’t help but sneak a look over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the Argentinian superstar, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, He saw Ivan Rakitic and Luka Modric not far in front of him, hugging and patting each other like they were long lost brothers reunited at last. Right next to them Gerard Piqué and Sergio Ramos – colleagues from the Spain national team – shook hands in a friendly manner. Gareth Bale was just standing by himself in the queue, like the loner he was, staring into distance and swaying from side to side.

Cristiano bent down to stretch out his legs and at that very moment he saw a familiar figure descend the stairs. His nerves took the better of him and he turned around on his heels, taking a few steps back to avoid any eye contact with Messi. His heart was hammering so hard he could feel the shake in his chest, when he eventually gathered up enough courage to look at the small Argentinian. Leo didn’t pay any attention to him though: he seemed to be totally focused on the upcoming game, looking determinedly ahead. It was like he didn’t even exist to him.

Cristiano felt his heart sink a little and sighed in disappointment.

_So he just doesn’t care._

Leo continued to ignore him through the ceremonial handshakes right before the first whistle. When it was their turn to shake hands, Leo hardly touched his fingers in greeting, quickly moving forward in the queue.

The game started. During the very first minute Cristiano succeeded to make a nice run along the left side, but Rakitic caught up with him and hit his knee, making him fall over. He cursed aloud and threw his arms into air, demanding for a free kick, but the referee gestured at him to get up and so he did, shaking his head in frustration.

As he climbed back to his feet, he turned his head and – for the first time – caught Messi staring at him. When their gazes met his eyes narrowed into slits and he shot Cristiano a condescending smile before breaking the eye contact to mind his own business.

Cristiano couldn’t believe, what he saw. _Who did that motherfucker think he was?_

Now Cristiano was furious. Every single time, when he got the ball, the crowd bas booing and whistling at him, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to score and wipe that stupid smile from the Argentinian’s face.

It didn’t work out as he planned, though, because some twenty minutes later Barcelona scored from Messi’s assist in front of his eyes. He watched bitterly as the Blaugrana players gathered into a pile, hugging and kissing each other. He was especially annoyed to see Messi laugh happily, when Neymar ruffled his hair before closing him into his arms, pressing their foreheads together. The mere sight made Cristiano sick.

The rest of the 90 minutes was not so good. Cristiano did get some payback by scoring just a few minutes after the Barcelona’s first goal, but was soon booked for diving and told the unfair and biased referee to go to hell. In the beginning of the second half Suárez made it 2-1. Ramos also picked up his obligatory yellow card for a foul on Messi. The only funny thing was to watch, how Neymar failed his attempts time after time, finally kicking out at Bale in frustration.

When the time was up Cristiano spat at the ground. Fuck this. He held his head high, though, refusing to look defeated, and started to walk back toward the tunnel. In his mind he swore, he would get his revenge – in one way or another.

* * *

_”Barça, Barça, Barçaaaaaa!”_

The whole Barcelona team was singing in the top of their lungs in the locker room, filled with overwhelming joy, jumping in a circle arms around each other. Geri made everyone laugh by dancing in the middle in Shakira style, while pouring fresh Champagne over himself. Dani Alves wanted to join in, of course, and tried to drag along Neymar, but he wasn’t in the mood. He was looking somewhat dark and gloomy again and even Dani noticed it, trying to cheer him up by pulling up the corners of his mouth with his fingers.

Leo decided it was time for him to step in and sneaked behind Neymar, grabbing him by the sleeve to follow him into the shower room.

“Neymar, what’s going on?” he asked as soon as the door was closed behind them. “You look like we just lost 7-1.”

Neymar rolled his eyes at the poor joke and sighed, putting a hand on his forehead.

“I’m not feeling well, that’s all.”

Leo frowned.

“Is it because of the game?”

“Of course it’s because of the game! I played like crap and you know it. You gave me a lot of chances and I wasted them all.”

“Neymar”, Leo said in a warning tone and tried to reach for his arm, but he shrugged him off.

“Why do you even bother with me? Leo, there’s nothing wrong, I just need to get my shit together, that’s all. Everything will pass, like you said. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s go back and have fun, okay?”

Leo nodded, but then an idea came to his head.

“Would you like to come to my place after this? To play some FIFA? Antonella and Thiago are away so I would have the whole house to myself.”

Neymar stopped in his tracks, gave it a thought and then flashed him a grateful smile.

“That would be nice, thanks.”

They hugged briefly and returned to the locker room. Meanwhile, the dancing and singing had stopped and everyone in the room had gathered around Ivan to watch something on his cell phone, laughing awkwardly and shaking heads. When they saw Leo, however, their faces fell.

“There you are, Leo!” Luis yelled, waving at him and then turned to Ivan. “Show it to him.”

“What is it?” Leo asked cautiously, walking up to where Ivan stood.

“It’s nothing”, Ivan tried to protest, but Luis gave him a stern look. “Well, it’s not nothing but… I’m not sure if I should – “

“If you can show it to us, you can show it to him”, Luis said angrily, snatched the phone from Ivan’s hand and pressed the play button, holding the phone out for Leo and Neymar to see.

Leo was surprised to see it was a video from Real Madrid players locker room, just after the game. He could hear Luka Modric talking from behind the camera so he was apparently the one filming it.

“The Leo Messi show, presenting: Cristiano Ronaldo!”

The camera then turned to Sergio Ramos, who grinned widely and gave a thumbs up, before settling on Ronaldo, who was prancing arrogantly around the room wearing only boxers. Pepe was standing in front of him and he intentionally bumped into him, falling theatrically on the floor an exaggerated grimace of pain on his face.

“Oh referee, referee! Free kick! I got hit! Please, I’ll suck your dick later! Give him a yellow card!” he yelled in a high-pitched voice rolling on the floor, pointing at Pepe, who bent over and covered his face, because he was laughing so hard.

“Of course, dear Messi! I’d love that. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Marcelo joined in, bowing at Cristiano like he was a god.

“Yes there is!” Cristiano got up acting crippled and limped to a wall to kick it repeatedly. “Why do my free kicks always hit the wall, why are there people standing in front of me? Can you tell them to fuck off so that I can score even once during this Clásico?”

Neymar glanced at Leo to see his reaction. The whole Real Madrid team was howling with laughter and the sound of it struck Leo like a bucket of icy water dumped over his head. The vein in his forehead was throbbing as he watched the scene unfold. Cristiano continued to mock him, kissing and clutching at his bag, pretending it was Neymar and it seemed to go on forever. Then, like a cherry on top, the camera zoomed in to show a card, where Messi was pictured as being Cristiano’s puppy dog and something about keeping enemies closer than friends. Finally, the video ended.

Leo saw red. Everything was blurry around him. He could see others’ mouths moving but he couldn’t hear a thing. Their faces were horrified as they saw how upset he was. Luis tried to touch him and say something, but he pushed him forcefully away and stormed out of the room, knowing exactly what his next destination was going to be.


	11. Confrontation

**CONFRONTATION**

Cristiano looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. He looked good. The Real Madrid team was going to stay overnight at a hotel in Barcelona and they would have a late dinner before that. Bearing that in mind, he had put on some stylish jeans and a black dress shirt.

“Are you coming with us, Bale?” he asked Gareth, who happened to walk past him.

“I’m sorry, I have to stick to my sleeping schedule”, Gareth answered in English. The guy hadn’t really figured out Spanish even after two years in the team.

“Okay, fine. Marcelo, Pepe, are you ready? Luka?”

“Just a sec”, Marcelo peeped, rummaging through his things, clearly looking for something. “My wallet is missing.”

“Hurry up, I’m going already”, Cris said and walked toward the door. Before he could reach the door, someone knocked at it in a demanding manner. He raised his eyebrow at Luka, who was also waiting to get out, and turned the handle.

Cristiano almost dropped his bag and his eyes widened in dismay. Lionel Messi was standing in the doorframe, still wearing his football kit. His hands were trembling with anger and for a moment Cristiano thought the Argentinian would go berserk on him.

“You. Follow me”, Leo commanded Cristiano and shot a dirty look at Luka, who immediately knew he had been busted and turned pale. Even Marcelo and Pepe, who hardly ever could hold their tongues, had run out of words. Cristiano had no choice but to follow the younger man. Leo took him into something resembling a huge broom cupboard and slammed the door shut so hard one of the brooms fell off the hook. Then he turned to face Cristiano.

“Now tell me: what the fuck is your problem, Ronaldo?” he hissed, spitting the words out like they were bullets and shoved Cristiano so that he had to take a few steps back to balance himself.

“Why don’t you ask yourself that question?” Cristiano replied, holding up his hands defensively. “I’m not the one attacking people out of the blue for no reason.”

“For no reason?” Leo asked, rolling his eyes. “I just got about a million reasons to be mad at you watching that video.”

“What video?”

“Oh you don’t even know? Well how about I tell you about the show you put up in the locker room after the game today? The Leo Messi Show? How I wanted to suck off the referee, remember?”

Slowly pieces started to click into place in Cristiano’s head. Leo had apparently seen some kind of video of his little performance, which was meant for his team mates’ eyes only. But how?

Then it dawned to him: Luka holding his cell phone, clearly shooting a video. And being such good friends with Rakitic… of course he would send it to him. He slapped a hand to his forehead. How stupid he was!

“That was the single most humiliating thing I’ve seen in my life.”

“Was it?” Cristiano asked, gaining more confidence now. “Well that serves you just right.”

“What?” Leo screamed. Now it was his turn to be shocked. “Serves me right? You got some nerve to say that to my face. In truth, you’ve destroyed everything, my life, my family and dragged me through the dirt in front of my team mates and friends. What did I even do to deserve all this, huh?”

Leo got closer to him and pressed his forehead against Cristiano’s, again forcing him to back up. He was really strong despite his height. Cristiano was shocked by the way this usually calm and collected man was acting: never in his right mind would he had guessed he had that in him. But he wasn’t not yet ready to give up. This was his chance to speak up his mind, too.

“Oh you think you’re the only victim here? Give me a break: you’ve been acting the whole day like I was air to you.”

“So what if you are?”

“Am I?” Cristiano asked back. He grimaced inwardly, since he couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice.

“Yes. We’re here to play football as professionals and that’s it. I have no business with you whatsoever. Especially if you pull this kind of stunts on me on a regular basis.”

“Look, I’m sorry about that video, that was just a stupid joke. We lost the game and well, I was angry with you.”

“Angry with _me?_ Why exactly?” Leo asked astonished. He stopped pushing Cristiano and crossed his arms, looking at him incredulously.

Cristiano winced. He didn’t really want to talk about it. But now there were no options.

“You know why”, he snapped finally, gritting his teeth and pinching his nose. “Because you ran away from that bathroom.”

He heard a gasp and quickly looked away from Leo, who was gaping at him, clearly loss at words.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, you know well, what I’m talking about.”

“ _I_ ran away? No that was you”, Leo laughed bitterly. “I don’t know, what you did, but you used me and left me there like I was a piece of trash, just one in the long list of Cristiano Ronaldo’s conquests. Keeping your enemies closer… how pathetic of you!”

Cristiano’s head was buzzing. Did you really run away? In a way… he did.

“You’re wrong, Leo. You were not just one in the long list”, he said quietly, stroking his neck. “I’m sorry, if I made you feel like that.”

Leo didn’t look at him. He had turned to face the door, rubbing his face like he had suddenly got a headache. Cristiano could almost see wheels turning in his head. Tentatively, he took a step closer and put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. To his surprise, he didn’t resist. That gave him enough courage to go on.

“Do you regret it?”

Leo stiffened and Cristiano saw a flush of red creeping up his neck.

“People do all kind of stupid things when they’re drunk.”

“I wasn’t drunk, Leo.”

Leo shot a surprised look at him and his blush deepened, when he realized how close Cristiano was. Even still, he didn’t shy away from his touch. For a brief moment some unreadable emotion lingered in his eyes, when he studied Cristiano’s face.

Suddenly the door banged open, making them jump apart.

Neymar stared at both of them in utter disbelief like he had just caught them making out.

“Okay…. What is this?”

“It’s nothing”, Leo hurried to say and bit his lip. “We were just talking.”

“It sure didn’t look like nothing”, Neymar argued. “Were you harassing him again?” he asked Cristiano.

“No I wasn’t.”

“He apologized to me, that’s all. I should go take a shower anyways”, Leo continued and walked past Neymar out of the door. Neymar shook his head and shot a suspicious look at Cristiano before running after Leo, yelling his name.


	12. Mate and FIFA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it has been so long. First I had writer's block and then I actually went to Barcelona to watch Barca's game and see myself around at Camp Nou... and I was in total shock after the experience, what a game it was (vs. Real Betis)! Also seeing Leo Messi in person for the first time in my life was just mindblowing (even though he didn't play at all, just watched from the stands). After that I have been feeling extra dirty writing this, since it made me realize he really IS a real person. But as this is complete fiction I guess I'm free to do whatever I want.
> 
> But I must say: this visit to Camp Nou was the best thing ever, I totally recommend it if you're a fan! I learnt a lot, had so much fun, took a ton of great photos and got myself into many places I never thought I would end up to.

**MATE AND FIFA**

The car ride to Leo’s home seemed to take forever. Neymar wasn’t talking much, he just looked out of the window deeply in thought. It was already pitch dark outside, so there wasn’t much to see, though. The radio was on, playing some song by Scorpions. Leo nodded his head to the music. It was a good song, familiar too, but he couldn’t recall its name.

“ _Wind of Change_ , huh?” Neymar stated, suddenly coming back to life.

“Ah, that’s what it is. Do you know the lyrics?”­

Neymar let out a dry laughter.

“No.”

Leo pursed his lips. Sometimes he wished he could understand English better. Neymar shifted in his seat and run a hand through his beautiful brown hair. He took good care of it and it showed.

“About Cristiano though…” he started and Leo furrowed his brow. He knew this was coming.

“What about him?”

“I was just thinking, he invited us to his birthday party and I thought you were friends and all… and now this. Something just doesn’t click.”

“Don’t think too much into it, Ney, it’s just a rivalry thing. Besides, he apologized to me already so everything is fine.”

“Right.”

Neymar didn’t look convinced though. He squinted his eyes and absent-mindedly started to fiddle with a pen he found in the glove compartment.

“By the way, I have been wanting you ask you this, Leo, but… Remember in Zalacaín, when I found you in that bathroom? Did something happen there, before I came?”

The car swerved sharply to the right and Neymar dropped his pen. Leo grimaced and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. He swiped it off.

“It was a cat.”

Neymar rolled his eyes and picked up the pen from his feet.

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“Yes I did, what is this, an interrogation? Nothing happened, Ney, it was just a bad moment, that’s all.”

”Okay, fine, let’s drop it then. I just wanted to ask.”

To Leo’s relief, he could finally see the gate to his house and asked Neymar to hand over the key. He drove in and parked the car in the garage.

“I go make us some mate”, Leo muttered as soon as they got inside and headed straight into the kitchen, flicking on the lights on his way. Neymar slumped on the sofa and turned on the playstation. Soon Leo brought the mate along with a tray of biscuits, sat down next to him and grabbed the controller to choose the team for himself. Neymar started to joke about how Leo always picked either Barcelona or Argentina.

“Why not Santos?” Neymar giggled and was more like himself again, curling into a comfortable ball in the corner of the couch and ruffling his hair. “It’s a great team after all.”

“Okay, you can take Santos if you want, here we go”, Leo teased and pretended to press the button to choose Santos for Neymar. Neymar laughed and slapped the controller out of his hands. So it was Barcelona vs. Barcelona, as usual.

“This is so boring”, Neymar complained after a while and jumped up to pour more hot water into the mate, after another lost game to Leo. “Can you just give me some handicap, like get a straight red card or something?”

“No I won’t! You’ll get a hang of this, I was lucky this time.”

“Can we play Brazil vs. Argentina?”

“Why not. Let’s do that next.”

Before the game, Neymar took an obligatory bathroom break. Leo checked his phone. There was a couple of new messages from **HASTALAVISTA** and one from Antonella, who congratulated him on the game and asked, when he could call her. He messaged her back that he was busy now and would call her later. He pressed the send button and laid the phone back on the table, where it beeped immediately. _‘That’s quick’_ , he thought amused and picked the phone up again. Except the message wasn’t from Antonella.

It was from Cristiano.

_“Hola. I’m outside. Can we talk for a minute?”_

Leo blinked and read the message over again. His brain just didn’t register it. Cristiano is outside? Did he mean outside of his house? Was this a joke? What was he doing there?

His hands started to shake so much he had to put the phone away as not to drop it. He felt a bit nauseous and breathless. What should he do?

“Are you ready to go? Leo?”

Leo didn’t even notice Neymar had come back and was sitting next to him on the couch holding the controller, looking at him questioningly. Leo realized he had been blanking out, wiped his mouth and stood up quickly.

“Just a sec, I need to take care of something first”, he excused himself and stumbled into the kitchen, where there was a side door to the front yard.

* * *

His steps echoed sharply on the asphalt, when he made his way to the gate and opened it. Indeed: a black Cadillac was pulled over on the street in front of his house and he walked up to it. The windows of the car were darkened, but when Leo walked closer the shotgun side door cracked open.

“Get in, quick”, Cristiano’s voice urged and Leo slipped into the front seat, closing the door behind him.

Cristiano looked fervently around, checking for any spectators, and Leo took a minute to observe him. The Portuguese was wearing a dark grey hoodie and his ear rings flashed in the street lamp light as his head darted from one side to another. He was like an agent on a secret mission, but Leo understood, where it came from. You could never be cautious enough: there was always someone lurking around and taking pictures. But why then risk being caught by the press and come to his biggest rival’s doorstep right after El Clásico? Leo was more than curious to find out.

“I don’t have much time. You wanted to talk about something?” Leo asked impatiently after some time, when it seemed like Cristiano wasn’t going to spark up the conversation. Cristiano nodded, straightened up his back and his mouth twisted briefly, before he sighed deeply and started to talk.

“Yes. Look, I want to apologize for what happened today. That was very unprofessional and stupid behavior from me. You didn’t deserve that.”

Leo sighed. To be honest, he was a little bit disappointed. So he came all the way only to apologize once more?

“It’s fine. I thought we had already settled that.”

“No, it’s not. I got carried away and… it’s this thing, I want to explain this: I hate Messi, but I like you. Do you understand? Messi is a character, my worst rival and nightmare, hijo de puta, motherfucker, you name it. The audience keeps chanting your name every time I fail just to annoy me. Of course I don’t really fail all too often, but you get the point.”

Leo chuckled at the last remark. _Of course._

“Hijo de puta forgives you”, he joked dryly, earning a little smile from Cristiano. 

“Thank you”, he said a relief evident in his voice. “Also… to be honest, you didn’t play too bad today.”

Leo felt his cheeks heat up at the compliment.

“Neither did you. Nice goal.”

Cristiano gave him a funny look and lopsided smile and they fell silent. Cristiano started to whistle and strum the steering wheel with his fingers. Leo looked at him. This was a completely different Cristiano, from what he had seen earlier today. Gone was the arrogant poise of the head and sneering voice. This Cristiano was someone else, quite humble and polite and… likable. And he did seem to be genuinely sorry for what he had done.

After a while, Cristiano cleared his throat and glanced at Leo.

“Also about the other thing we talked about earlier… I’m sorry about that too.”

If there was any way to disappear right then and there, Leo would have done it. Instead, he closed his eyes and cringed inwardly. He didn’t really want to hear what Cristiano had to say, but there was no way to avoid it.

“It was my fault. You know, since I broke up with Irina, it’s been a little bit… Let’s just say I didn’t take that too well. We were together for so long I thought she would never leave. And I’ve been acting like an idiot since then. Today was a great example of that. But what I mean to say, about what happened between us in my birthday party… I don’t know what I was thinking, it was messed up. But I'm sorry if I hurt you.”

Leo ground his teeth together. He was sternly looking out the window, staring at the lamp post nearby. His mind was whirring with all kinds of emotions. So now Cristiano admitted it _had_ been a mistake. Some part of Leo felt relieved, but the other part of him felt numb, like he was watching the scene from the outside. Of course it was a mistake, that’s what he had been thinking all along. But why did it still sting to hear that from Cristiano?

“Do you do that often then?” he asked sharply after a moment of silence.

“Do I do what?”

“Go around jerking off random guys?”

It did sound harsh but Leo couldn’t pick his words any better. He wanted to know.

“Not really”, Cristiano said all serious. “Despite of everything that is written about me… I’m not gay.”

“Me neither. I've a girlfriend and a kid.”

“Glad we got that sorted out then.”

Another awkwardly long silence ensued. At the moment, Leo didn’t even remember, how they got in this situation in the first place, it all seemed awfully absurd and he wanted nothing more than to change the subject. Suddenly he remembered Neymar, who was still expecting him back from the bathroom.

“I think I should go now”, he stated abruptly, making his leave. “Neymar is waiting for me inside.”

“Is he?” Cristiano questioned in a resigned voice.

“Yeah, we’re playing FIFA.”

“Sounds fun. Hey Leo, one more thing… do you think we forget about this and be friends?”

Leo stalled and turned to face Cristiano.

“Yeah, no problem”, he agreed quietly.

“Great.”

Cristiano reached out to shake his hand awkwardly and then pulled him into a manly hug. Leo closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of Cristiano’s cologne. The smell gave him flashbacks, however, so he quickly broke off the embrace and frowned. _‘This is the best possible outcome, really’_ , he reassured himself. Now he could get back to his normal everyday life, forget about Cristiano and start over with Antonella and the baby.

“I guess I'm leaving then.”

It wasn’t a question, but it sure sounded like one, because Cristiano didn’t make a single move to indicate he was going anywhere. Leo fidgeted in his seat. In a way, he didn’t really want Cristiano to go just yet.

“You can join us if you want” he blurted out and immediately beat himself up mentally. Cristiano raised one of his finely arched eyebrows.

“Join in what? To play FIFA?”

Leo nodded, biting his tongue. Cristiano rubbed his chin, giving it a though.

“Why not”, he replied. “But isn’t Antonella at home?”

“No, she’s in Argentina with Thiago.”

“Right. I guess I have nothing better to do at this hour anyways.”

Cristiano started the car and Leo advised where to park it, all the time wondering how he was going to explain to Neymar, why Cristiano suddenly appeared in his house in the middle of the night.

* * *

Neymar’s facial expression was indeed something to behold.

”What the fuck?” he blurted out in Portuguese and snorted the mate up his nose, coughing uncontrollably. “What are you doing in here?”

“I was passing by and Leo invited me in.”

Neymar didn’t look very convinced by that answer to say the least.

“Is this a frequent hobby of yours to drive around aimlessly in Barcelona and lurk around Leo’s place?”

Cristiano shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“Can you please stop talking in that weird language of yours, I can't understand a thing” Leo sighed, frustrated. “He is my guest and came here to apologize, we are friends now and everything is settled. Okay?”

Neymar snapped his mouth shut, but that didn’t prevent him from glaring at Cristiano, who acted like he was oblivious to his unwelcoming stare. The Portuguese sat down next to Leo and watched Brazil put up a fierce fight against Argentina on the screen. It was all in vain, though: Leo was just too good a player.

“I think we have to repeat El Clásico next”, the lively Brazilian suggested cheekily, making both Leo and Cristiano laugh uncomfortably, looking at each other.

“No, I don’t play”, Cristiano stated bluntly. “I have better things to do spend my time on than playstation.”

“I can teach you”, Leo offered and explained him the game’s basic controls. “This his how you pass, this is how you shoot and you use the joystick to dribble.”

“This is priceless”, Neymar chuckled watching them. “Messi teaching Ronaldo how to play football. Let me grab my popcorns!”

Leo elbowed him and let Cristiano practice a little. Cristiano wasn’t that bad, actually, for a beginner. He was very ambitious and his ability to read the game transformed well into the playstation game. All the same, when they began to play, Leo still did have the upper hand. He was about to score, when Cristiano almost unnoticeably shifted closer to him, making their legs touch. That made Leo’s concentration fall apart and he shot way off the mark.

“Aww, too bad”, Neymar exclaimed happily. “He’s pressing on you, huh?”

“Yes he is”, Leo muttered, shooting a dirty glance at Cristiano, who was grinning widely, looking all innocent.

It was Cristiano’s turn to take the control over the game. He inched closer to the goal, making ruthless passes and feints on his way and it became clear as day he wasn’t playing FIFA for the first time. In the end, however, it was Leo who would claim the victory again. Cristiano tossed the controller away like it was a piece of garbage.

“Can I put on some music?” he said cockily and asked for a bluetooth speaker. Leo provided him with one and the music started to play. Neymar immediately recognized the song and danced and hummed along. Cristiano walked around in the room and stopped to admire the photos hung on the wall next to the tv.

“Is this your son?” he asked Leo curiously, pointing at one of the photos.

Leo nodded.”

“Yes, it's Thiago.”

“How old is he?”

“Two. Turns three in November.”

“Big boy already. Does he like football?”

“In truth, not really”, Leo said sadly. “Maybe when he grows up a little. I try not to force it though.”

“Junior _loves_ football. Some kids just have that passion in them and he is definitely one of them. He’s four now and very talented.”

“Thiago is great”, Neymar interrupted, clearly aware of how bothered Leo was that his son didn’t share his love for the sport like Cristiano’s. “He’s the most polite little boy you’ll ever meet.”

“No doubt about that. Like father, like son”, Cristiano remarked cryptically and sat back down on the couch now very close to Leo, who was determined not to move an inch to give him more room.

“Okay, next game. I want to play with PSG now!” Neymar exclaimed. “Although, I’m hungry as a bear. Do you have anything in the fridge, Leo?”

“Go ahead. Do you want something, Cristiano?”

Cristiano shook his head and Neymar left them. Leo offered Cristiano some mate. The Portuguese didn’t exactly appreciate the taste of it.

“What is this shit?” he grimaced after taking a sip. Leo laughed heartily.

“It’s mate. You haven’t had any before?”

“No and I won’t touch it in the future either. Disgusting! You actually like this?”

“You just insulted all of Argentina and Uruguay with your comment”, Leo rolled his eyes and took the drink from his hand before he dropped it or something. While doing that, their fingers brushed, making Leo’s breath catch. He looked up and suddenly realized that the song playing in the background had changed and this time it was one he recognized immediately.

It was the very same song Cristiano had been singing in his birthday party. It was _Si no te enamoras._

Cristiano looked at him as if to see his reaction and their eyes locked for a moment. In a split second the air around them became charged and Leo turned away embarrassed, caressing the mate gourd in his hands nervously.

“What’s that time?” he hastily asked Cristiano, forcing himself to think something else than the memories that rushed back to him with this song.

Cristiano checked his phone. He let the song play uninterrupted, pretending he hadn’t even noticed it was playing and Leo took a mental note of that.

“Oh, it’s 2 a.m. already. My plane is scheduled at ten. I think I should head back to the hotel now before I lose too much sleep.”

Leo nodded and stood up. Cristiano followed his suit and they walked to the kitchen where Neymar was preparing himself a meal of fried eggs and vegetables, singing and dancing happily.

“Oh you’re leaving already, how boring!” he exclaimed disappointed.

“Have you not seen what the time is?” Cristiano asked and the young Brazilian shrugged, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Not that much. Why?”

“Nevermind”, Cristiano laughed and waved his hand. "Good night!"

When they reached Cristiano’s car, Cristiano turned around to face Leo and draped his arm around his shoulders in a friendly manner.

“Thank you for the evening, Leo. I had fun.”

Leo smiled wearily and patted Cristiano’s back a few times. Cristiano eventually let go of him but not before planting a light kiss onto his cheek. Leo flinched at the touch and Cristiano’s eyes flashed with some emotion Leo couldn’t identify.

“Let’s see where we meet the next time, on or off the pitch. _Friend._ ”

Then he got into the car and winked. Leo just stood still and watched the car reverse from the garage, down the pavement and finally disappear into the darkness of the night. The place on his cheek where Cristiano had kissed him tingled a little and he touched it absent-mindedly with his fingers, before going back to inside.


	13. Surpise Guest

**SURPRISE** **GUEST**  
_Monday 23rd March 2015_

“Welcome home!” Maria – Cristiano’s household keeper – greeted him happily as soon as he stepped the threshold. He gave her a grateful smile, when she picked up his duffel bag and went to throw his dirty clothes in the laundry. It took Cristiano a moment to spot the shy pair of dark brown eyes peeking at him from behind the corner.

“Junior, what are you doing? Come here!”

His son gave him a little smile and then lunged at him, laughing and poking at his sides. Cristiano smiled broadly and tickled him, lifting the child onto his shoulders.

“You lost”, Cristiano Ronaldo Jr. stated after a while, clearly bothered by the fact. “2–1. But you made a goal!”

“That’s right, little one. We lost. But failure is the first step to success, remember that.”

Junior nodded, but something told Cristiano he didn’t quite catch the beauty of his words. He bent over to let the child jump away from his back and let him explain all the fun things he had experienced with his nanny while he was away.

After a while Cristiano decided it was time for his daily workout routine, changed his clothes and retreated into his gym, offering a little ball for his son to play with. He had just finished warming up, when suddenly Maria appeared in the doorway. Usually he hated it, if someone other than Junior dared to interrupt his well-structured training session, but this time Maria looked extremely alarmed. Cristiano took the hint and followed her out of the room.

“What is it?” he asked her impatiently as soon as they were out of Junior’s earshot.

“It’s Irina”, Maria whispered. “She’s at the door. She said something about coming to pick up her things.”

Cristiano looked at her dumbfounded and it took him a moment to fully grasp on what she was saying. Then he gathered himself and cleared his throat.

“Right. I’ll go, you – look after Junior.”

He grimaced to himself as he rushed to the hallway, checking himself out in the mirror on his way. He looked sweaty and tired, far from his best. Quickly he fixed his hair and wiped his face with the small towel draped over his neck and went to open the door.

And there she was, Irina. Beautiful as ever, standing in front of his door a stony expression adorning her face, wearing a business-like black dress and jacket and clutching a couple of empty bags in her left hand. She looked him straight in the eye and there wasn’t a single trace of forgiveness in that stare.

“Well, nice to see you too”, Cristiano said coldly, trying to get the upper hand of the situation. “I heard you had actually a good reason to come here.”

Irina flashed him a fake smile.

“Yes I do. I need my stuff back”, she snarled, totally unaffected by Cristiano’s unwelcoming attitude.

“Go ahead”, Cristiano opened the door wide and stepped aside, careful not to touch her in any way. “You could have just hired someone to do that for you, you know”, he couldn’t help adding.

Irina shrugged and threw her jacket to the nearest chair.

“Right. I don’t want any furniture, just some clothes and my grandmother’s jewels. In case you didn’t sell them already.”

Cristiano frowned.

“Of course not”, he said quietly. “Where are they?”

They walked in silence to the master bedroom and Cristiano let her get through her things. She yanked a dress after dress unceremoniously from their hangers and stuffed them roughly into her bags, totally ignoring Cristiano who was standing nearby, watching her every move with blank eyes.

Of course, he knew it was over, had been for over two months already. But even still… now that she was there, all the memories came flooding back into his mind and he couldn’t help it. This was the person he shared his life with for so many years and trusted his deepest and darkest secrets with. And now it was like she was a complete stranger – a hostile one nonetheless – robbing him of every single memento he had of her.

“You can leave a couple of them, if you want. I don’t mind”, he hissed before he could stop himself.

Irina stopped for a moment, then continued what she was doing like she hadn’t heard him at all. Her ignorance was like poison to Cristiano.

“Where’s the car by the way? It’s mine after all. Or do you need it by any chance?”

Irina didn’t even blink. She took the car key out of her pocket and tossed it to Cristiano like it was a piece of trash. Then she went back to rummaging through the half-empty boxes to find her jewelry.

Cristiano looked at the key in his hand in disbelief before discarding it to the nightstand. He felt his act of toughness slowly wearing thin. He turned his back to Irina and bit his lip, fighting back the feeling of desperation that was arising from deep within.

“So, how is your love life doing? Still single?” He tried to sound as casual and indifferent as possible and was happy to find out he almost succeeded in it.

That seemed to do the trick. The ruffling and shuffling stopped and Irina let out an exasperated sigh.

“Will you stop, Cristiano, why do you even care?”

“What if I do?” Cristiano challenged, confident enough to turn around and face her. “It’s not like I was the one who called this thing off.”

Irina glared at him like he had just punched her in the face.

“Well, at least I wasn’t the one, who slept around whenever given the chance. And to answer your question, no I’m not. I have found someone, who is a wonderful, attentive and well-mannered human being, unlike some other people in this room. Who actually _cares_ about me and shows it too.”

She looked straight at him as she spoke and she could have as well driven a dagger into his heart. Cristiano knew he had lost it already, but he didn’t care anymore. Of course she had found someone. Of course she had moved on. A woman like that wouldn’t stay single for too long. But did it have to happen so soon?

“Great. Good for you”, he mustered to say. This time his voice betrayed him though.

Irina sighed again and clicked her tongue. Then she shook her head and when she spoke next, the tone of her voice was softer and had an almost apologetic ring to it.

“Just once”, she said. “If you just once had said you were sorry, that you wanted to be with me and just me. But no. That never happened, Cristiano, and this is the result.”

“I know”, Cristiano answered in a resigned voice and slumped down on the bed, taking the towel off his neck and drying his face and hands with it. “I’m sorry.”

“Right.”

Irina closed her eyes and rubbed her temples like she had suddenly got a headache.

“Look Cristiano, it wasn’t working at all. For me, at least. I loved you, but I just couldn’t figure you out and most probably never will. Sometimes I even wonder whether you can figure yourself out or not.”

Cristiano didn’t say anything. He felt completely numb. This is it: he had lost her forever and he shouldn’t have. He felt like every single bone in his body had turned into sand and only the slight shuffle of the sheets indicated that Irina had sat down next to him.

“There’s something I want to know although it doesn’t matter anymore”, she said tentatively after a while and sighed deeply. “But I need to know the truth. What happened that night at the Ballon d’Or ceremony?”

A cold flush went through Cristiano. He tensed up and his jaw clenched.

“Nothing happened”, he spat out quickly.

“Don’t lie to me, Cristiano, I know you well enough to know that is bullshit.” Irina said, sounding agitated. “What happened?”

“No, I was telling the truth, nothing happened. Nothing”, Cristiano said, this time making sure he looked her straight in the eye. “You can ask anyone, who was there, and get the same answer. Nothing happened. Period.”

To prove his point he waved his hands in the air like he was trying to stop the traffic. Irina didn’t look convinced, though. She grabbed his arm and made him look at her again.

“Just spit it out, okay? I won’t be mad. Be honest just once. Who was the lucky girl?”

“There wasn’t a girl”, Cristiano retorted, closed his eyes and shook his head.

Then, out of the blue, it all came back to him: the smell of the grass, the stream of water from the fountain, the cold soil against his elbows, the warm skin under his fingertips… and the blurry image of Leo looking at him like he had lost his mind. 

But he couldn’t possibly tell her that. What would she even think?

He fidgeted in his seat, pinching his itching nose and breathed rapidly in and out through his mouth. Irina must have picked up on his strange behavior, though, because what she asked next took him completely off the guard.

“So… was it a guy then?”

Cristiano’s eyes shot open and his breath hitched. He looked at Irina, startled, and tried to play it off by laughing and slamming his hands forcefully against his thighs.

“No, of course not, I’m not gay! Have you lost it?”

“Cristiano.”

She looked at him sternly. In that moment he knew he was fucked up.

Very slowly, almost unnoticeably, he nodded, sliding his hands across his face and let out a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Irina averted her gaze.

“Right”, she muttered and started to fiddle with hair. “Didn’t see that one coming. Now tell me everything.”

“I didn’t cheat on you”, Cristiano whispered after a moment of silence, his voice coming out hoarse. “It wasn’t anything like that. I don’t know what it was, we were just hanging around during the after-party, I drank some wine – you know I never do that so that must have messed up with my head – and then suddenly we were close, I looked at him in the eye and… that’s it, we didn’t do anything back then, I don’t even think he realized how I felt.”

“Back then? But what about later?”

“I had that birthday party after we broke up, you know. He came there and I ended up kissing him, but… it didn’t go very well. I’d rather not talk about it.”

Irina nodded a few times listening to his story, a blank stare in her eyes. Then she swiped a lock of hair off her eyes and cleared her throat.

“I see. Who is it then? Is it someone I know?”

Cristiano shrugged uncomfortably.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“No, I want to know. Is it a footballer? Pepe? Marcelo? Messi?” Irina teased sarcastically, but as soon as she saw the way Cristiano’s eyes widened at the mention of the last name, she knew she had hit the jackpot and her face fell in disbelief. “Wait a minute… _Messi?_ Are you kidding me?”

No answer was the loud reply and Irina fell completely silent. The realization struck her like a ton of bricks.

“So that’s why you were so obsessed with him all the time.”

“I was not!”

“Oh yes you were, you were always ranting about him, remember?”, Irina chuckled dryly, stood up and started to pack again, her movements coming off somewhat agitated. “But even still… Wow, you never fail to surprise me, Cristiano, I had no idea. You and Messi… just wow.”

“You know you’re in trouble if you tell anyone about it. Besides, there’s nothing to tell, we’re just friends.”

Irina laughed light-heartedly and pulled the zipper of one of her bags shut.

“Nothing to tell? I think the whole world would love to hear that the great Cristiano Ronaldo is in love with Lionel Messi! Who would have thought?”

“Will you shut up already! I’m not in love”, Cristiano snapped.

Irina’s grin faded into a small, sad smile and she folded her arms, looking at Cristiano like she now saw him in a completely new light.

“I think you are. And I’m happy for you, seriously. Well, I can’t compete with Messi”, she said and let out a wry laughter. “If it was someone to steal your heart from me, I’m glad it was him. So, what are you going to do about it, huh?”

“Do about what?” Cristiano snarled angrily. “You think this is funny? Nothing of course. Like I said, we are just friends if even that. Also he’s got a girlfriend and a kid, for crying out loud.”

Irina rolled her eyes.

”Of course. It’s never going to happen, you’re not gay, he’s straight, he’s taken, you’re a pussy and it would be bad for your image. Bla bla bla. Whatever. But I tell you this, Cristiano: I know you have sacrificed a lot to get where you stand, including me. You can go on and have it your way, forgetting about everything that truly matters and bask in the light of success in the world, where everything is for sale. Or you can fight for what feels right in your heart and try again. It’s your choice.”

“That’s a great monologue, what audition are you preparing it for?” Cristiano knew he sounded a bit bitter, but he didn’t need to be lectured about what things mattered to him in life. “You know that could never happen, not in a million years. And not just because he’s taken.”

“Right, be the idiot that you are. But thanks for telling me, I really appreciate it. And I’m not mad at you anymore, in fact, I think I know how you feel. If you want to talk about it, just call me whenever you want.”

Cristiano frowned. Then he remembered something.

“You can keep the car, by the way, I have plenty of those.”

“Thanks.”

Cristiano took the keys and offered them to Irina, who put them back into her pocket. She reached for her bags that seemed quite heavy, but Cristiano stopped her and hoisted them onto his shoulders. Their steps echoed in the silent hallway as they made their way back to the front door, where Irina put on her jacket, thanked Cristiano for being a gentleman and then hugged him, squeezing him tightly like it was going to be the last time ever they could embrace like this.

“I’ll always love you, Cris, remember that.”

Cristiano felt a lump form in his throat as he hugged her back.

“I love you too. And I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright.”

They pulled away from each other awkwardly. Irina grabbed her bags and looked at him, preparing to say goodbye but Cristiano hurried to speak first.

“Irina… you never told me, who you are dating?”

“Bradley Cooper. Does that ring any bell to you?”, Irina replied shyly. Cristiano couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy, when hearing the name.

“Oh, that actor. I see. Well, good luck with him."

Irina thanked and before she left, they promised to stay in touch.

After she was gone, Cristiano shut the door and pressed his forehead against it. This was definitely the end of something and he knew it. But at the same time, maybe – just maybe – this was also a beginning of something completely different.


	14. Phony Life

__

**PHONY LIFE  
** _Monday 23rd March 2015_

The bright rays of the sun traveled through the green curtains of the master bedroom and hit Leo’s eyes, slowly waking him up from his deep sleep. He rolled around in the sheets, fumbling for his mobile phone to see what the time was. _10:30 already._ He groaned and pushed the blanket off his lap, shivering at the chilly air of the room.

With heavy limbs he dragged himself to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet seat, trying his best to adjust to the upright position again. Tiredly he pulled out his phone again to check the news and new messages. 

**HASTALAVISTA** – or Sergio – had clearly been missing him. Or rather he had been missing Miguel, because that’s the name Leo had come up with for himself, when Sergio had asked about it a couple of weeks ago.

> **HASTALAVISTA:** Good morning, Miguel! Did you go to sleep early last night? You sleepy head! Wake up asap, I have big news for you!
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** What is it?

Leo knew he was being kind of curt, but he really wasn’t a morning person.

> **HASTALAVISTA:** I got a new job and this is the best I’ve ever had, I’m telling you! Remember the interview I had last week? They just called me and – _tada!_ – you are talking to the brand new _sports journalist of Marca_! Can you believe it! This is by far the best day of my miserable life!
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Oh wow… congratulations!

The real-life Leo was cursing under his breath. This was such a farce: the last person he could think of to pour his heart out to was some Marca’s reporter and that’s exactly what he had been doing ever since he started this stupid chat with Sergio.

Nevertheless, he was happy for him and – a journalist or not – Sergio had been nothing but extremely attentive and supportive towards him all the time.

> **HASTALAVISTA:** Thanks! I’m over the moon, this is a long time dream come true! And _finally_ I get to see all the matches I want and even get paid for it! And they are going to pay me quite handsomely…
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** That’s great, good for you!
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** …which by the way brings me to my next point: the first match I’m going to write a report about is - insert drum rolls - _Barca vs. PSG in Champions League Quarter Finals!_ How cool is that!

Leo sighed and slapped his hand onto his forehead. _Great._ Now please why don’t you tell me you’re going to do an exclusive interview with _me_ next _?_

> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Nice!
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** It is! And that’s not all: I’ll get a couple of press passes to the match and – since you live in Barcelona and this match is played at Camp Nou – I’d like to invite you to the game with me! I would really like to meet you in person after all this time. What do you say?

_‘Indeed, what can I say?’_ Leo chuckled. He couldn’t recall the last time he had found himself in a more hilariously absurd situation.

> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** I’d love to. But unfortunately, I’m on a work trip that day so I can’t make it.

In a way, he wasn’t even lying.

> **HASTALAVISTA:** Are you? Oh crap! I really hoped you could come. Next time then, huh?
> 
> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Maybe. But you know what? I think you’re going to be an amazing sports reporter. For real.
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** Aww, thank you so much! I’m going to work my ass off if I only can keep this job for as long as possible. But that’s enough about me, _amigo_ , what about you and your man?

Leo frowned. _His man._ Sometimes he didn’t like the way Sergio talked about this subject, like he thought Leo actually wanted to date Cristiano or something. Which was definitely not the case, not in the least.

> **FOOTBALLFAN87:** Nothing much. He came to see me last night and said he was sorry about everything and we are friends now. In truth, I think this whole thing was nothing more but an experiment for me, I don’t think I even was interested in him in _that_ way.
> 
> **HASTALAVISTA:** Really? Well okay, if you say so…

Leo wasn’t happy with Sergio’s answer either. It was like he didn’t believe a word he said. But that’s how he felt about the thing with Cristiano at the moment: it had been nothing but an experiment, something that happened in the heat of the moment and just because he was drunk enough to lose all his senses. Now that everything was finally settled between them, he was ready to forget about it and move on with his life with his family and get back to how things were before it all went terribly wrong. And Antonella…

_Oh crap. Antonella._

All of a sudden Leo realized he hadn’t called Antonella last night like he had promised. Quickly he made up some flimsy excuse, why he had to end the chat with Sergio, searched for Antonella’s number and pressed the call button. The call rang a few times before a very sleepy sounding Antonella picked it up.

“Hi Leo. Do you have any idea what time it is here?”

She sounded grumpy and Leo grimaced. Indeed: it was still very early in the morning in Argentina.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot to call you yesterday.”

“Yeah... I guess you were busy or something? But never mind, I just wanted to let you know that all is well and that we’re going to come back on Friday.”

“Great. How’s Thiago?”

“He’s fine, missing you of course. If you call us later I can put him on the phone, he really wanted to tell you about his new friend José, they’ve been inseparable the past few days. Now if you don’t mind I’m going back to sleep, love you, _amor._ ”

“Love you too”, Leo replied, before Antonella hung up.

For a moment, he beat himself up mentally for forgetting to call her back. He didn’t have too much time to mull over it, though, until Neymar came banging at the door, demanding to get in and use the bathroom. Leo reminded him that there were plenty of other toilets in the house he could use instead of the one Leo was preoccupying at the moment.

“But I really like this one!” Neymar explained and Leo couldn’t but chuckle at his spoilt friend and get up to unlock the door for him.

* * *

That day’s training was very light like always after a big game: all they did was the “rondo” and some stretching and recovery exercises. Geri happened to be on an exceptionally good mood and – as usual – he had pulled his shorts all the way up his inner thighs and was prancing around bearing striking similarity to a crippled peacock.

“Damn I’m getting old”, he complained. “My ass feels like it was rammed by a horse cock!”

Xavi and Andrés almost chocked on their drinks.

“Sounds like you know, how it feels like then?” Luis remarked cheekily, making Neymar break down in laughter.

“Shh Luis, let’s keep it between me and you”, Geri retorted and winked obscenely and now it was Luis’s turn to lose his poker face.

Leo was laughing too, mainly because he was too tired to resist the charm of Geri’s daily comedy number. He didn’t notice Ivan, who had at some point inched towards him and almost got a stroke, when the Croatian suddenly talked to him in his broken Spanish.

“How are you Leo?”

“Oh, I’m fine. You?”

“Same. Look: I feel bad about showing you that video yesterday. It was a good game, I didn’t want to spoil it for you.”

Leo shook his head and grabbed on to his left foot to stretch the back of his leg.

“It's okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

“No it was. I shouldn’t have showed it to anyone, it was supposed to be for my eyes only.”

“You think so?” Leo questioned and shook his leg before bending down to touch his toes.

Ivan opened his mouth as if to say something, but then Luis Enrique started to yell instructions at them, forcing them to turn their attention back to the still ongoing training session.

* * *

When Leo got back to the locker room he showered quickly and was sitting on a bench drying his hair with a towel, when Neymar emerged next to him fully clothed, looking all suspicious. Leo looked at him questioningly.

“What is it now?”

Neymar grinned widely and showed him an Instagram photo of a sexy blonde girl. Leo raised his brow.

“Ah, so is she your new girlfriend?”

“No, we’re going on a date. Her name is Linda.”

Luis – who was sitting near enough to hear their conversation – snorted loudly and waved an arm in the air in frustration.

“Why do I feel like I got a déjà vu experience? This is ridiculous! Can’t you just date one girl at a time, Ney?”

“But I do!” Neymar insisted, sounding a bit whiny. “Melissa was an exception, I wasn’t planning on it, I swear! It was after Liz dumped me and I was thinking that…”

And the story went on and on. Leo was more than happy that Neymar was back to being more like himself again, but to tell the truth one of his least favorite thing about the young Brazilian was his endless conquests with the girls. Leo just didn’t understand one bit, why someone had to constantly brag about bedding one beauty queen after another, when in fact it was not going to end up in anything else but telenovela-worthy drama and long string of broken hearts. But in the end maybe that was exactly, what Ney was after.

His train of thought was interrupted by a beeping noise coming from his pocket. He took out his phone and swiped it open. When he saw, who the message was from, his heart skipped a beat.

_“Hola amigo! How are you? Thanks for yesterday, in case you were wondering I got back home safely. Have a nice day! -Cristiano.”_

“Leo? Tell me what you think?”

Leo snapped out of his thoughts and ruffled his hair absent-mindedly, looking at Neymar like he had just appeared there out of nowhere.

“Uh, why don’t you just call Liza and tell her how you feel about her?”

“Are you crazy, Leo, have you listened to me at all? I can’t call her, she completely blocked me, I can’t even see her Insta anymore!”

“He’s right Leo, how could you be so daft?” Luis said in a overly dramatic voice, clasping his chest and tilting his head to the side. Neymar shot a irritated look at him.

“Screw you guys”, he snapped and walked off, leaving both Leo and Luis smirking after him and sharing understanding looks with each other.

* * *

“Four points. Four points. Damn it”, Marcelo was muttering by himself, folding his training clothes into a neat stack before stuffing them into his duffel bag. He was obviously referring to the fact that by winning _El Clásico_ Barcelona was now four points ahead of them atop the La Liga table and at this point of the season it was a bad thing. They should have won this game.

The reality slowly started to sink in the whole Real Madrid team, Cristiano included. He blew out a long breath, thinking about the upcoming matches and counting the odds of winning them. Granada should go down very easily, same with Rayo Vallecano, Eibar and Málaga. Sevilla and Valencia were going to put up a fight for sure.

But even if they won everything it meant that Barca had to at least tie and lose and the goal difference should be on their side as well.

“Four points, but so what? We won’t give up. Because we are the best”, Cristiano said aloud after a while. Marcelo lifted up his head and looked at him surprised.

“Cristiano, use your common sense. Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be? I don’t know, I think we should focus on winning the Champions League instead.”

“7–1”, Cristiano reminded him. “You’re not going to give up no matter what. Giving up is for losers and we are not losers.”

Marcelo’s brown eyes stabbed staggers at him. He was now done with packing and turned to face Pepe, who had just emerged from the shower and was clearly in a bad mood. They started to chat heatedly about some mistake Pepe had done during the game and Cristiano pulled out his phone to distance himself from the conversation.

Still no answer from Leo. He had read the message over and over again before actually sending it as to be sure it sounded as casual as possible, as if they were only friends texting after a long night out.

Cristiano scratched his neck and felt almost ill thinking about the conversation with Irina earlier in the morning. It was very uncharacteristic to him to feel as exposed and vulnerable as he had felt talking to her. He was Cristiano Ronaldo after all, not some sentimental fool, who went around apologizing to people for his actions. But nevertheless, that’s pretty much what he had been doing during the past 24 hours or so.

His phone vibrated and when Cristiano saw the name _Leo_ on the screen, he quickly covered the phone with his hand and looked frantically around to make sure no one had seen it. Then he opened the message.

_”Buenas tardes! Thanks for yourself, glad to hear you made it back to Madrid. See you around!”_

A warm feeling washed over Cristiano as he stared at the words, then locked the phone again and tossed it away. He straightened up his back and stretched out his chest, smiling and shaking his head to himself. A simple message like that shouldn’t make him feel so good… but it did.

Marcelo and Pepe seemed to have reached some kind of conclusion and Marcelo left, waving at Cristiano as he went. Pepe sat down on the bench and wiped his armpits with a towel. He shot an angry look at Bale, who accidentally bumped into his leg on his way out. Then he turned to face Cristiano.

“Tell me, what was Messi the Motherfucker so riled up about after the match? He looked like he was about to make you bite the dust.”

Cristiano sighed and his good mood evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.

“He saw the video Luka shot of our little performance last night so it was about that.”

Pepe’s eyes brightened up at this and his head tilted back in laughter.

“Priceless! Wish I had seen his face! Luka is a genius!”

”No he’s not, that was a stupid thing to do”, Cristiano scolded at him. “We have to win from now on so let’s get our shit together. I’m off, see you tomorrow.”

Pepe’s smile faded a little.

“Okay, bye then... Hey wait: can I borrow your phone for a minute? Mine is dead.”

“Sure, be quick though.”

Without thinking twice, Cristiano gave his phone to him. Pepe typed in the number and called a taxi for himself. Then he handed the device back to Cristiano.

“Thanks. See you tomorrow!” he chirped at him. There was strange undertone in his voice, but before Cristiano could place what it was, the other Portuguese had disappeared out of the door.

Suddenly it felt like the blood in Cristiano’s veins had turned into ice and cold sweat started to seep through his forehead.

_Leo’s message._

What if the message app was still open, when he gave his phone to Pepe? Had he seen the message? _How could he have been so careless?_

Cristiano hurried to unlock the phone, but Leo’s message was nowhere to be found and he sighed in relief. Maybe he was just reading too much into things, maybe Pepe hadn’t seen it after all.

But in any case, he should be more careful in the future.

Bearing that thought in mind, Cristiano put his phone away, lifted the duffel bag over his shoulder and left.


	15. Five Goals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long break, busy as always! Hope you enjoy :)

**FIVE GOALS  
** _Saturday 4th April 2015_ **  
**

To say that recently things hadn’t been going very smoothly between Leo and Antonella would be a grave understatement. For some reason, ever since Antonella came back from Argentina, she had been pretty much giving Leo a silent treatment. The situation at home made Leo both sad and frustrated and he simply couldn’t understand, where it came from. He tried his best to be a good boyfriend, attentive and caring, but nothing seemed to work.

Even today, when Leo was about to leave for Barca’s trip to Celta Vigo and there was 15 minutes to go, she still hadn’t made a single effort to let him know he would be missed during the weekend nor did she help him to get ready.

“I’m leaving soon”, Leo said finally in a last attempt to catch her attention. To his relief, Antonella indeed tore her eyes from the book she was reading, lying on the couch, and sighed loudly.

“Where are you going now, if I may ask?”

The cold tone to her voice sent shivers down Leo’s back and he was genuinely shocked at her ignorance. Didn’t she know he had a game tomorrow?

“To Vigo, of course.”

“Oh I see. I guess I forgot.”

Her indifferent answer made Leo boil inside, but he tried his best put down the feeling. It was no time to start a fight as they wouldn’t see each other for the next couple of days. 

“But _amor_ , you can find my schedule in at least three places in this house including your cell phone, how can you forget about it?” He winced inwardly at how whiny he sounded.

Antonella shrugged and went back to staring at her carefully manicured nails.

“I had other things in mind. You know, not everything in the world revolves around you and your football.”

“Right. So is this how you’re going to say goodbye to me, no?”

Antonella snorted, but – nevertheless – put the book aside and stood up to embrace him quickly before taking a step back, examining him. It was like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

“Have a good trip, I hope you win. I just wish you’d spend more time with me, you know”, she added quickly.

“What do you mean?” Leo said, looking at her genuinely puzzled. “I’m at home all the time!”

Antonella smiled tiredly and shook her head.

“That’s not what I meant. You’re here, but you’re not here, you know? I feel like these days your mind is always wandering somewhere else, when you’re with me.”

Leo cringed. Maybe she was right after all. He was trying to be a good father and boyfriend, but was he really? He spent time a lot of time with Thiago, tried to do little things around the house to make Antonella happy, but for God knows how long he hadn’t even asked how she was doing with the pregnancy.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that there’s a lot of important games coming up, I can’t stop thinking this may be the last chance for me to bring home the treble and we’re so close this time, so close.”

“I know all that, don’t worry”, Antonella said and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Just don’t forget about me, that’s all I’m asking. But you must be in a hurry, see you on Monday. Love you.”

“Love you too”, Leo whispered and kissed her on the cheek, a lump forming in his throat, before grabbing his suitcase and rushing into the garage.

* * *

”Looks like someone is having a rough day”, Luis greeted him as soon as he slumped down next to him in the airplane. Leo replied with a sarcastic smile.

”What is it? Has Thiago reached the negative age already?”

”No, it’s Antonella.”

”Oh, women! You never know which way the wind blows, huh? Did you have a fight?”

”Not really”, Leo replied. He was in no mood to talk to the curious Uruguayan.

“I think you did. But think about it positively: once we get back from this trip you’re going to get some amazing make-up sex!”

Sometimes – just sometimes – Luis didn’t know, when to shut up for good.

“Who is having amazing make-up sex?” Neymar joined in and it took everything in Leo’s power not to slap him in the face right then and there. “Aww, kinky Leo!”

Leo squeezed his eyes shut and listened to how everyone around him laughed at the blush of color that had risen into his cheeks.

Eventually his teammates grew tired of teasing him, however, and he was relieved to be left alone with his thoughts. Luis finally changed seats with Neymar, who wanted to sleep after a long night of partying, and started to chat with Geri about their kids. Leo listened to them with half an ear, slowly drifting into unconsciousness.

First it was dark, then he heard the sound of water. He looked down in the direction of the sound and saw his own reflection looking back at him from the surface of the water. Suddenly, he felt a hand land on his shoulder and turned around to see who it was.

_It was Cristiano._

They looked at each other for a long time, without saying a word. Slowly, Cristiano’s hand moved with a caress from his shoulder to his cheek, in an exploring way. His touch was as light as a feather, almost unnoticeable, but unbearable at the same time. Leo closed his eyes, leaning into the touch that was setting him on fire, enjoying it immensely, craving for it. The touch became heavier and heavier and he felt warmer and warmer, wetting his mouth, waiting for something to happen, something, anything…

“Leo! Ney! The Earth is calling!”

Leo woke up with a start. He was embarrassed to find Luis staring at him incredulously and even more embarrassed, when he found Neymar sleeping with his face buried on the crook of his neck, his short brown hair tickling his lips. Leo cleared his throat, wiped his mouth and gently detached himself from the limp Brazilian, who was slowly starting to stir.

“Let’s go”, Geri commanded mercilessly and Leo forced himself to follow the lead and reached for his shoes to put them back on. Neymar rubbed his eyes like a kid, refusing to accept his precious nap was over.

“Shut up”, he growled at Geri and gave Luis a murderous look, when the older man playfully reached over to jam a cap onto his head.

* * *

_Sunday 6th April 2015_

To Cristiano’s great relief, over the past couple of weeks Pepe had acted completely normal around him. This was reassuring him that the other Portuguese hadn’t found out about him and Leo texting to each other, which – by the way – had continued every now and then after _El Clásico._ Most of the times it was Cristiano who would take the initiative and comment on some news or ask Leo about how things were going with the Argentina national team. But this day was an exception.

Because today Cristiano had broken another record – and this was not a small one. During the day’s La Liga match against Granada he had scored _five times_ trashing the other party 9–1. It had been a total demolition, annihilation, extermination… you name it. It was as if they had planned this out just to prove Real Madrid was far from being eliminated from the La Liga title race.

So this time, Leo messaged him first.

_“Congratulations!”_ he wrote. _“I have never seen anything like that, just spectacular! Keep it up.”_

Cristiano smiled at the words, sitting down on the locker room bench after taking a shower. Oh, so Leo hadn’t seen anything like that even though he had pretty much done the same himself? Nevertheless, the words from his worst rival made him feel – if possible – even more proud and satisfied with himself.

He was thinking of a good enough comeback, when James Rodriquez suddenly collapsed beside him and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“Hola Cris, my king! It’s party time, you’re coming, right? We were thinking about hitting the clubs tonight, Marcelo got an awesome idea in his mind, you must hear it!” he enthusiastically, beaming at Cristiano and stuttering a little as usual.

“I see, what is it?”

“It’s a secret!” Marcelo exclaimed, rubbing his hands together like a mafioso. “I’ll show you later, if you come.”

“Let’s see”, Cristiano laughed heartily. He wasn’t quite sure whether he was exactly in the mood for a club crawl or not. Fortunately, James left him alone after a while, which gave him a chance to type a reply to Leo.

_“Don’t worry, I won’t leave it here”_ , he wrote. _“Let’s see which one of us will score six first. My bet is on me.”_

It didn’t take long for Leo to write back to him, claiming that individual records didn’t mean as much to him as the collective ones. Which was utter bullshit, of course: Cristiano didn’t believe for a second that a person as competitive as the Argentine would be totally immune to the joy of being the star of the show. He pointed that out to Leo, who merely stated “ _whatever”_ and then proceeded to modestly downplay his own performance against Celta Vigo earlier the same day.

_“I’m afraid Antonella will make me sleep on the couch, if I keep on playing like this, jajaja!”_

When Cristiano finished reading the message, his broad smile evaporated in an instant. The mention of Antonella hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He closed the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, slamming his hands against his thighs. He had made up his mind: it was definitely time to party hard and forget about everything, including Messi.

_“Marcelo!” he yelled in a booming voice. “Count me in!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update coming soon!


	16. Low-Profile Party

**LOW-PROFILE PARTY  
**

Marcelo’s idea was – not surprisingly – nothing short of utterly crazy and potentially hazardous… but brilliant at the same time. He had summoned half of the Real Madrid team (minus Gareth) into his house and presented them with a collection of clothes and wigs and a painfully shy-looking bespectacled woman no one had seen before.

“So”, Marcelo said, starting to explain his ingenious plan waving his hands like a salesman towards his teammates. “Here’s the thing: we have a problem, we can’t go out and have fun without being mobbed by fans and ending up on the front page, right? Well, I just might have a found the ultimate solution for that: tonight, we’re going to go out and have fun _in disguise!_ It isn’t exactly Halloween time of the year yet, but this is Madrid and no one cares. Also, Elena his here to help you, she’s a professional make-up artist, don’t hesitate to ask for her services!”

“Ma-Ma-Marcelo, you’re a genius!” James applauded wildly. “I have always wanted to do this!”

“Oh, so wait, do I have to dress up as a monster or something?” Pepe questioned, scratching his bald head. “Because in that case I can go as myself.”

“Ha ha, very funny”, Sergio chuckled, already fiddling with the hem of a pretty flower dress hanging on the closest rack. “Marcelo, this must be for me, no?”

The whole room burst into a howling laughter, but Cristiano could sense Marcelo got the general approval for the plan as everyone started to curiously approach the cloth racks and try out the ugliest dressing combinations imaginable. Elena was already busy applying make up to James’ face, apparently trying to transform him into a heavy metal drag queen of sorts.

Cristiano found a pair of loose jeans and a grey wrenched-out t-shirt and asked Elena to attach a fake moustache and a beard to his face as soon as she was ready with James. He completed the look with a pair of nerdy shades and a wig and – happy with the result turned around only to see Marcelo posing in front of the mirror clad in a tight Superman outfit, flexing his biceps. Cristiano cracked up at the sight, doubling over in laughter.

“What are you giggling at, _bobo_ , I look gorgeous!” Marcelo said all serious, making Cristiano laugh even harder. “Finally, _finally,_ I get to express myself in a more holistic way!”

“Sure, don’t mind me”, Cristiano said, wiping away the tears of laughter and his eyes fixed next on Pepe, who was convincingly starting to look like a member of a motorcycle club. Meanwhile, Sergio had unfortunately abandoned the idea of wearing the flower dress and instead relied on a pair of shades combined with a fake beard to hide his famous features.

After an hour or so, everyone was more or less finished dressing up and ready to go. Marcelo – who at the very last minute decided to opt for a more casual Hawaiian tourist look instead of the Superman suit – called for a bunch of taxis to pick them up and take them to the club two at a time as not to catch too much attention.

* * *

Cristiano was genuinely impressed by how well the plan seemed to work. Of course, he did get some funny looks, when he entered the nightclub looking like some kind of out of place rockstar hippie, but for first time in at least 10 years or so no one asked for his autograph, tried to take a selfie with him or even took so much as a second look at him. He felt like in heaven.

Soon after stepping into the club he spotted James in his impressive drag-queen apparel leaning against the bar counter. He flashed a broad smile at the younger man, took a place next to him at the counter and ordered a mocktail for himself.

“What’s up, handsome?” James purred jokingly, winking, flipping his hair and batting his long fake lashes like a princess. “My place or your place?”

Cristiano almost chocked on his drink.

“Stop it, James, or I’m starting to think you do this all the time”, he whispered half-serious.

“You have no idea! Grr, that beard is _so_ hot”, James giggled and there was no doubt that the usually shy and stuttering Colombian footballer was enjoying this role play a bit too much. “Oh Alejandro, please take me home!”

”Hold your horses, first Alejandro wants to see, where our friends are at.”

With these words, Cristiano grabbed James’ hand – just in time to drag him away from a suspicious-looking older man, who was beginning to take too much interest in the younger man’s beautifully toned fishnet-clad legs.

Cristiano took a look around and saw Marcelo and Pepe beckoning at them from the other side or the club, indicating that they should follow them.

There was a huge dancefloor upstairs, complete with good-looking young people, flashing strobe and disco lights, booming bass music and smoke. Marcelo led them toward one of the corners, where they found Luka and Sergio sitting on a white L-shaped leather booth.

“There you are, I was starting to get worried already!” Sergio greeted them happily, hoisting his drink. “Did you get lost or something?”

“Uh no, I just saved James or Jimena or whatever this creature is called from a seriously horny grandpa willing to do all kinds of nasty things to her”, Cristiano explained collapsing down onto the booth seat. “So just another day in the office.”

“No wonder”, Sergio snorted. “Look at those legs, girl, you better be careful or you’re going to get yourself into trouble!”

James laughed heartily and crossed his legs, his movements agile and graceful. Cristiano shook his head and shared a meaningful glance with Marcelo, who was probably thinking the same thing: James didn’t exactly look like he would exactly _mind_ getting himself into some trouble tonight.

Cristiano took another sip of his mocktail, watching people having fun on the dancefloor and half-heartedly listening to Marcelo, who was babbling something about wanting to build a new house in Brazil. Suddenly his eyes locked with a pair of very dark brown ones, which looked at him intently for a second before turning away. They belonged to a rather short but well-built young man, who was wearing a black and silver printed shirt and tight ripped jeans. His hairstyle was messy and unruly, his nose straight and distinct and something about the man’s whole demeanor awfully reminded him of a certain Argentine he desperately wanted to forget about.

“I want to dance” James abruptly interrupted Marcelo’s monologue and stood up. “I’m going to fall asleep, if we don’t.”

“Fine, why not, let’s go!” Marcelo agreed and gradually they made their way to the middle of the dancefloor, pushing the churning crowd back a little to make some room for themselves. Cristiano extended his arms in an attempt of making the dance circle even bigger, when he accidentally bumped into someone and felt something wet spill onto his shirt. He cursed aloud in Portuguese and twirled around angrily only to lock his eyes with the very same pair of dark brown eyes he had admired from afar just a moment ago.

The short messy-haired man looked at him, then down at his empty glass of beer. Slowly, the man lifted up his arms in order to scrutinize his now wet clothes and frowned. That’s when Cristiano realized he must have knocked over the man’s drink with his elbow and his earlier anger was replaced by embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My bad. Let me buy you another one”, he said apologetically, grimacing to himself.

“No, it’s fine”, the man claimed and looked at him, smiling sadly. “Shit happens.”

Cristiano smiled back at him and quickly made a mental note of how the man looked even better up-close. He had a playful glint to his eyes and a charming, youthful smile. But what Cristiano liked the most about him was the fact he didn’t get mad at him or even seemed to care the slightest bit about the fact he was basically soaked in beer from head to toe.

Eventually, he managed to convince the man to join him at the counter in order to buy him a new drink and while they were still standing in the queue, the man decided to introduce himself.

“My name is Sergio, by the way”, he said, offering his hand. “What’s yours?”

“Uh… Alejandro”, Cristiano replied, giving him the first name that popped into his head and immediately beating himself and James up mentally for coming up with such a stupid name. “Nice to meet you… uh… Sergio?”

The other man nodded and pursed his lips, looking somewhat thoughtful.

“I’m sorry, but I must ask – because I saw you and your friends earlier and I was just wondering – are you having a bachelor party or what? Or is this how you all dress normally?”

“Oh no… I mean yes, one of my friends is getting married, lucky guy, his name is… Fernando”, Cristiano lied quickly and raised his eyebrow impatiently at the bartender, who was still busy mixing drinks for other customers.

“Wow, good for him, which one of them is he?” Sergio asked, trying to curiously sneak a peek in the direction of Cristiano’s friends.

“He’s the one who looks like a … oh it’s my turn now, what do you want?” Cristiano said and flashed a grateful smile at the bartender, who winked back at him, juggling with glass.

“One Estrella, please” Sergio said and the bartender nodded and went to fetch the drink. He poured it into a tall glass and handed it to Sergio. Cristiano paid for the drink and then they took a couple of steps away from the counter to give room to other customers.

“You know, you really didn’t have to pay for this. I know you didn’t spill my drink on purpose, it was an accident.”

Cristiano waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s nothing, never mind. Besides, there’s nothing I can do about your shirt so I hope this covers it up.”

Sergio tilted his head and bit his lip, clearly amused by something. His eyes had that intense look to them again that made Cristiano feel somewhat uncomfortable in his skin. Even more disturbing was the way he raised his arm to wipe away a stray strand of hair from Cristiano’s face.

“Another question… It’s pretty dark in here so why are you wearing shades?”

“Why not?” Cristiano asked back defiantly.

“Maybe you wouldn’t knock over other people’s drinks, if you took them off.”

“Oh I would”, Cristiano argued and raised his eyebrow. “You don’t know me, I might well be blind, you know.”

“Oh wow, so you are not? Dope.”

Cristiano laughed, shaking his head and rubbed his fake beard pensively. This man was quick with his thinking, that’s for sure.

They continued chit-chatting for a while, before deciding it was time to go back for their friends on the dance floor, before they started to miss them too much. James – who wasn’t happy at all that Cristiano had christened him Fernando and that this was supposed to be his bachelor party – visibly sulked and after a couple of songs disappeared somewhere. Marcelo, Sergio Ramos and Pepe felt they should keep an eye on him and went to look for him after a while. That’s how Cristiano found himself alone with Sergio once again.

“Where did _your_ friends go by the way?” he asked, chuckling nervously. Sergio shrugged and took a step towards him.

“I don’t know. And does it really matter?” he slurred and suddenly wrapped his free hand around Cristiano’s waist, holding his glass of beer with the other. “Let’s dance.”

Cristiano stiffened at first. He didn’t really know what to think. In his mind, he wasn’t gay. He had always dated women and before what happened with Leo he had never even thought about being with a man. But something about Sergio made him unsure of his resolve. He didn’t want to push him away. Also, Cristiano had to admit, it was actually quite nice to be like this, losing himself in the dance and feeling the closeness of the other body against his own.

Gradually he let himself relax more and more and brought his hips closer to Sergio’s, swaying to the rhythm of the song. He smelt the hair of the other man and closed his eyes, imagining it was indeed Leo he was holding in his arms. The mere thought of it was enough to make his throat dry and heart beat faster and he pulled Sergio a little bit closer.

Sergio clearly interpreted this as an invitation and before Cristiano knew what had hit him, he felt his shades being snatched off his face and a pair of lips brush against his.

Cristiano froze and stopped dancing. The kiss deepened and grew more passionate, making his breath hitch involuntarily. Sergio’s hands were all over his wig, pulling it slightly until it almost started to slip off. Cristiano himself still stood frozen to his spot, unable to move a muscle or even respond to the kiss.

Suddenly he became painfully aware of his surroundings and the fact that Marcelo, Pepe or Sergio Ramos could come back any moment and find him like this, kissing a random male stranger on the dance floor.

Or even worse, he could be _recognized._

Sergio whimpered disappointed at the loss of contact, when Cristiano suddenly tore their lips apart and took a step back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”, Sergio spluttered, still disoriented by the kiss. Then he raised his head and his eyes visibly widened and mouth dropped, when he looked at Cristiano. He opened and closed his mouth a few of times like a fish, before regaining the ability to talk. “I thought you were… But you are… Wait a minute, is that a _wig?_ ”

“Shh, shut it. Come here”, Cristiano hissed, grabbed his shades from Sergio and quickly put them back on. He dragged the other man by the hand through the crowd despite of his protests (a couple of guys yelled _“watch out!”_ , but Cristiano couldn’t care less), until they were out of anyone’s earshot. Leaning against the shadowy wall of a secluded corridor, Sergio turned to look at him incredulously, his expression half-defiant, half-amused.

“Okay, you must tell me now, what’s going on, because I’m completely lost here.”

Cristiano sighed, rubbing his temples. He really didn’t want to explain. All he wanted was to get the hell out of here and think up a hundred ways to kill Marcelo for coming up with such a stupid idea.

“Look”, he said reluctantly, turning his back slightly to Sergio. “We have that bachelor party going on and even though it was nice to meet you, Sergio, I have to go now. This isn’t really… let’s just say this is not my thing.”

“Not your thing? Do you mean kissing me is not your thing or what?” Sergio said, his tone sharper than before. “’Or are you maybe tired of pretending to be someone else? Because I know, who you are, I’m not _that_ stupid. You are Cristiano Ronaldo, aren’t you?”

Cristiano felt like someone had hit him with a sledgehammer. _This is it._ _He had been exposed._ Like an animal caught in an unexpected trap he twirled around, expecting to see Sergio looking at him like he was his next prey, but that wasn’t the case. Rather, the other man had a slightly confused and awestruck look on his face.

“Keep it down, please”, Cristiano hissed, looking wildly around to check if anyone had heard. “I’m not him.”

Sergio chuckled dryly.

“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t mind being called Cristiano Ron–“

“Have you totally lost it? I said shut up”, Cristiano snapped and put his hand on Sergio’s mouth to silence him.

“Okay, chill out a bit, will you”, Sergio said, swatting his hand away nonchalantly. “I wasn’t completely sure until now, it’s a pretty good disguise actually. I bet no one else noticed a thing. I just happen to be a sport reporter and thus have the privilege of admiring your face every day, so it wasn’t really all that hard for me to figure it out.”

For the second time this evening, Cristiano’s heart skipped a few beats. He couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“Wait, you’re a _journalist?_ ” he whispered and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, not really caring anymore whether it was dirty or not. Sergio nodded and slumped down next to him.

“Great, just great. Okay, so how much?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you slow or just dumb? I’m asking you how much money do you want to keep your mouth shut for good?” Cristiano grunted. “Tell me your price, I’ll pay it, you know I have the money.”

Sergio grinned, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes this time. He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re getting me all wrong, I don’t want your money.”

“I don’t believe you, you people are all the same and you know damn well that I’m fucked, if this… _incident_ gets out. Or is that your plan? To simply destroy me?”

“What plan?” Sergio sounded genuinely confused. “No, I don’t want to destroy you.”

“Then what do you want?” Cristiano said, frowning at him.

Sergio grinned, shook his head and stood up.

“An autograph would do”, Sergio said coyly, winking. “And maybe your phone number.”

Cristiano blinked a couple of times, not quite believing his ears, and looked how Sergio actually drew out a piece of crumpled paper and a black marker pen from his pocket and took off the pen cap.

“Is that it?” he asked incredulously, climbing onto his feet. “Are you sure?”

He quickly wrote his name and one of his phone numbers, constantly checking over his shoulder, then handed the pen back to Sergio and pulled out his wallet, but Sergio refused once more to take any money so he put it away.

“Thank you, Cristiano”, Sergio said, lowering his voice so that no one could hear him. “I had fun, I hope you did too.”

And with those words, he disappeared like he had never existed in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about taking my time to update, I've been really busy lately. But I won't abandon the story, even though it sometimes may look like it! Stay tuned :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please feel free to comment! I'm going to update this as soon as I can.


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